Sunday, July 18, 2010. About My Father, Rabbi A. My father was born on September 11, 1916 in Jerusalem. So, who was my Father? When did my Father begin to commit poetry to memory? His memory was a vast treasure- trove. He could recite poetry for hour.

Talons grip on outstretched limbs. Stream trickling through the forest. Night time casts its net of stars. Gambolling white hare and fawn. Rest at silvered river bank. Light slumbers beneath wet sticks. Sleep falling away like dust. He spies a wan maid.

Saturday, January 31, 2015. However, I do still get to do some super fun shoots from time to time. It brings out the kid in us so what better way to announce a baby? Mustache or Hair bow? .

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Lyrical poetry to help enlighten and enrich. Wednesday, September 18, 2013. The Way I Am Should Be Okay. I listened to the lyrics of a new song that struck me strange. The lyrics spoke of being lesbian or gay. And being accepted rather than judged some day. That weighed heavily in the recesses of my mind. Why should I need to feel that my life must rearrange. So, love, and let love.