People of sababa.


"We met at the festival.....everything turned out, well, Sababa!"



"I thought jam was something you put on peanut butter. And that genomes were genetic material."

"What changed?"

"A friend convinced me to come because she didn't want to go alone. I received quite the musical education that weekend."

"Have you ever played an instrument before?"

"No. That was my first time holding a guitar."

"Who gave it to you?"

"Some of the band members stayed up until dawn with an impromptu concert....we bonded over a mutual love of all things sabra. One of them taught me jazz, another taught me a Grateful Dead song. It felt incredible, to be able to create beauty from nothing."

"What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking about how, if you told me one year ago that I would be sitting on a forest floor after an all nighter listening to bongos, violins, and guitars, I would have laughed in your face."

"You wouldn't have come?"

"No. Not for a free ticket. Not for the winning lottery ticket."

"Are you happy you did?"


"Can you share four things you learned from this experience?"

"Fish is not just a food but a band. Mushrooms are apparently not just sautéed with meat but consumed for other purposes. A Frisbee is best tossed by flicking your wrist, and you can dance for hours alongside people who carry very different beliefs."


"I find it interesting."

"Which part?"

"The combination of music and spirituality. Like, these tzitzitare symbolic of my relationship with God....and music, to me, is symbolic of spirituality."

"Can both co-exist?"

"Yes, in fact, one enhances the other. That's why I was drawn to this event. Shabbat and Jam bands. Its the perfect combination."



"I don't know his name, but it's impossible not to notice him."

"I saw him picking up the garbage people tossed on the grass yesterday."

"I admire the way he maintains both a love of God and a love of his fellow man."

"I wonder how he does it."

"He doesn't judge. I think that's key. There's such a diverse population here.....if only a handful judged, it could create an ugly environment."

"I'm glad that didn't happen. I was worried it would."


"Are you more writer or musician?"
"I'm a jack of all trades."
"In what way?"
"Different emotions I feel have to be expressed in different ways…It's more about the art than the medium."
"Can you give me an example?"
"Sure. Most of my poetry is translated into music. Or other art forms."
"Like what?"
"I paint. I sculpt. I do sand play therapy."
"What's that?"
"A form of art therapy. Therapists have different sculptures, models, and objects collected with a tray of sand, and patients pick the pieces that speak to them, building concrete manifestation of their imaginal world. In this way patients express their own emotions with their own individual interpretations of the pieces they chose."
"What's an example of an expressive piece you used?"
"Oh, let's say objects in shades of blues or greys, curled up in a fetal position or rounded, could be emblematic of depression or sadness."
"How so?"
"Because during depression or sadness life is lackluster, color loses its potency and fades away. Curled in could be a defense or protection from reality, maybe a barrier against vulnerability, I dunno. Everything in therapy is open to interpretation, so we try to avoid specific, highly detailed images and objects."