At the age of 36, in 2002, I immigrated to Australia to study culinary arts in Melbourne. After studying commercial and Asian cooking courses, I completed a diploma in Patisserie. For many years I worked in the local food industry as a chef, pastry chef and later on, running my own business in the food industry.

 

Early childhood

I was a curious child. Except for my mother everyone noticed that.  Everyone, except for my father, who was affected by my mother. They did not see any wonderful thing in me. Not surprisingly, I did not see any wonderful thing in me either.

This is what shaped my life, then and now. This is what brought me to this point in space and time in which I built myself PAL.

You are invited to read about my troubled childhood and the way that this traumatic experience is reflected at PAL.  Gas Lighting Me and PAL

 

Teen and Young adulthood

At this age I was mainly running around my tail, trying to figure out what this thing called love is all about. Growing up with no love I had tried to find it in all the wrong places that like a boomerang came back and hurt me hard. While doing that, I was a political activist, an experience that shaped the way I see the world. In many ways I am still a teenager. I am not proud of it, and I am not ashamed of it, I just live with it.

Life between my passions for food and a narcissistic mother, who could not love her chubby boy and hated spices was scary. My mother cooked for the taste of a man who hated complicated food, and this was a nightmare for me, a child who tried to find love in any form and shape of food.

 

The Army

I will skip it for now. Three full years!

Having no jail time and staying alive throughout this period (for 2 straight years I had a gun in my hand 24/7) was a great achievement in itself.

 

The journey into art

As 13-14 years old boy, I wanted to be an actor and join the school theatre group. My family’s objection convinced me that acting sucks and that I was not talented enough to be on the top, so I was wasting my time. So I gave up.

As 15-16-17 year’s old teenager, expect of fixing the world in rallies I wanted to be a poet and writer. I was a poet, I am a poet but my family discouraged me again; not talented… gave up.

I have done and tried many things during my childhood and teens. I was an amazing boy, curious, trying things, learning by myself, building… I did not know that. I learned about myself at a very advanced age.

During the army I fell in love with photography. I always loved photography. I had few attempts as a child to get into photography but I found that my family did not like the idea. To deal with the endless stupidity that you experience as a soldier I took a course in Photography.

That was the kick-start to studying full time photography, and after that fine art and philosophy, as you can see in my Resume.

 

The journey out of art

Maybe one day I will be brave enough to open it. The critical style did not change even when I had records. I was smashed to my family’s ego wall. I was an adult under the influence of Stockholm syndrome and it was hard to deal with it then and now.

 

The immigration

In 2001 I came to Melbourne to learn culinary arts. For two and a half years I took different courses while working in the industry. In 2007 I had my daughter and my partner and I are raising her ever since in shared custody.

I wanted to get out of Israel more than I wanted to come to Australia. You can read about this point at Kafka and me. Do not get me wrong; I love Australia! I love to be here. I cannot think of a better place to be depressed.

The main issue that my mother had with me from day one was that I am fat. I was a chubby boy (active and healthy I remind myself all the time) and she could not stand it! My love for food became my enemy as this was the main object of her abuse. The immigration into the food industry connected me to extraordinary flavours and tastes. Extraordinary because I had food without her judgment, like in a friend’s house when my friend’s mom was happy to see an unfussy child. I found myself fascinated by the strong connections between my memories and the food that I cook. Every dish has a story. If it is not my story; it’s someone else. I found that I could connect to people through the food and stories. That is what PAL is all about. It is the discovery of memories of past present and future.

Here you can read more about the connections between PAL and food: Proust syndrome-Involuntary memory.

In many ways PAL is the creation from the big-bang of me meeting Australia. I fell in love with the Australian backyard. This is one amazing space. You can read more about this point at: Portableness, Australia, Judaism, Palestine & Till.

 

Back to art

At the age of 50, after a total breakdown, I needed to collect myself back or start from scratch. One day collecting, one day starting, different day different ways.

PAL is exactly me. A pure reflection of my life through my stories in a safe place; my place.

For the first time in my life I am brave enough to be me, with the colours, with the loudness, with the accent and with the way that I see the world.

I bring myself to the world for the last time, hoping that I will be able to jump through the fire hoops in my safe place that I call PAL.