Although Freud never visited the Holy Land in his lifetime, I took it upon myself to return him to the land of his ancestors. Here he is looking thoughtful at the Kotel (Western Wall). I wonder what he is thinking. Has he seen the light? Or is he a bit circumspect, muttering, "Sometimes a wall is just a wall"?
Tel Aviv and Jerusalem could not be more different. Jerusalem is golden white, cool, hilly; Tel Aviv is busy, dingy and peeling, congested, towering, hot and sweaty, and despite or because all this extremely compelling, especially to Freud. It is filled with arty graffiti.
The love-child of Keith Haring and a Hasid:
Freud's favorite spot (voden?):
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