So the boat is completed, and her name shall be called: Alma.
Early in the morning, we set out for Alexander River for a technical launch to ensure the young lady does not rock, rollover, leak or show off too much. She was brilliant. The weather was perfect, and she was steady and robust and kicked ass. Now she only has to make her way safely to the Sea of Galilee, where she will live.
May it be, and the novel's launch, which will come upon us soon, be as successful.
"And she shall be drafted and built and adorned with colour and boast proudly in the streams of the holy land to its length and breadth. And she shall be heavy and hardened and bowed and rest upon the shores of the Galili upon the Sabbath days, Amen."
We went through a lot, the two of us. I started building two years ago and fell in love with woodwork quite fast. You start with a stack of plywood, and as time goes by, as you fail and learn, it slowly grows and merges into a boat. It's an astonishing thing to witness. It's the magic of every creation, including writing; only here you can visually see your product becoming.
After the frame was built (the wood that frames it and protects it from damage) - which by the way, was my favourite part - I travelled abroad. I was supposed to come back in two weeks, but little did I know, it was the beginning of the notorious Covid era. The airports closed one after another, planes new destinations were to be historical monuments, and I got stuck in South Africa.
And Alma? - She sat outside her studio and soaked up the unforgiving Israeli summer sun for eight months.
When I managed to repatriate, immediately after isolation, I went to find her peeled, grey and full of scars—my poor baby. I tried to strengthen her mostly with layers of love but also with other sources of protection. On the one hand, I enjoyed it, and it was a privilege to work on her and see her getting closer and closer to completion. On the other hand, it was hard for me to see the end approaching.
By this point, T and I were in a hurry to leave Israel because he's not a resident and is not allowed to stay more than six months, which was almost up. I had to work faster for something I didn't want to finish yet.
Each painting stage was harder than the previous one because although I knew she'd be seeing water soon, it also meant that I'd finish building, and the story would come to an end.
Quite similar to the difficulty found with every editing stage of the novel because although I know it'll see the light of day soon, it also means that I finish writing, and the story would come to an end.
But each end brings a new beginning, and now I'm a little freer for writing the novel, which is why Alma is sailing and kicking today.
Plus, I have to announce that I'll be taking a break.
As you know, Every post I publish was originally written in Hebrew, and every time I'm translating it into English with the help of my T. But soon, T and I will be very busy travelling and working. Also, it will take time for the book to be translated. The double work of writing and translating causes me to update slower, which is not fair for my Hebrew readers. I will have to take a break with the translations.
If you still want to stay updated, you are welcome to visit my Hebrew website and bastardise my writing through Google translate:
https://www.moriahbetzalel.net
Wishing us all better days, and I hope to get back to you as soon as possible. Hopefully, in a post-covid world. Maybe even in a post-cancer world.
One can only hope.
Moriah.