Just a one-hour flight can whisk you away to an entirely different world. My last post left off as the wheels of our plane lifted off the ground of the Holy Land during the latest war with Iran. As they touched ground again, we arrived in Larnaca, Cyprus. The view as we flew into the airport looked like paradise. We flew over vibrant blue Mediterranean waters and sunny shores. As a bus drove us along the tarmac from the plane to the airport, people marveled over the flamingos

There comes a point when war becomes boring, if not mundane; and there comes another point when it becomes annoying. Two weeks of being in the same city, running up and down and up and down into the same miklat, going for walks in the same neighborhood square...Whereas it was good to have downtime and familiarity in those spaces between missile attacks the first week or so, it began to feel very same-y, especially in Rishon LeZion, a comfortable, quiet, and residential city.

The following are entries from my journal during the second week of the war with Iran. If you'd like to read the first installment of this series, click here. 3/7/26 Last night was terrible. Here’s what the night looked like: 19:16 Incoming missile pre-alert 19:19 Rocket & missile fire 20:41 Rocket & missile fire 21:54 Pre-alert 21:56 Rocket & missile fire 00:32 Pre-alert 00:37 Rocket & missile fire 00:50 Event ends 4:56 Pre-alert 5:00 Rocket & missile fire 5:14 Event ends

Miklat (Hebrew: מקלט): A reinforced public bomb shelter, usually underground, intended to protect civilians from rocket and missile fire. Derived from a biblical translation meaning “shelter.” In a week of war, my neighbors have quickly become characters in a story that none of us wanted. Here, I present to you a photo essay detailing the people of my building, who have gathered in our miklat under our building alert after alert, throughout any and every hour of the day thi

Paris. The streets smell like bread. The city simultaneously gives me a creative itch and scratches it. It is May 2024. A brisk breeze wraps around the streets, which are lined by lovely, fashionable architecture; shops that beckon with colorful macarons and a limitless variety of cheeses; and a burst of movement, liveliness, chic fashion, and creativity. This was my "revenge" trip, a return to Paris seven years after my original trip there. In 2017, I'd come to run a 10k and

On Monday morning at Hostage Square, the air was thick with relief, hope, and quiet celebration. With each announcement of a safe return, hearts lifted and tears were shared among strangers united by fear, grief, and finally, the joy of homecomings. Through my lens, I captured these fleeting, tender moments, these snapshots of a nation slowly breathing again.