Control has always been a quiet fear in my life. 
I’ve never touched alcohol, cigarettes or drugs, and I avoid anything with two wheels. 
Yet I’ve spent more than ten years driving a taxi through the chaotic streets of Petah Tikva, 
where sirens echo day and night. But I surely don’t drive for pleasure. 
— I drive to survive. To pay rent. To buy records. To afford good meat. 
And most of all, to support my children.

Sometimes my work and my passion meet. Famous singers have sat in my taxi over the years.
Once, Ilanit was a passenger. I didn’t recognize her until she began rehearsing her own songs. 
Even though I’m shy, I couldn’t stay silent.  I spoke to her about her music. 
— The same music that had carried me through so many chapters of my life.


But taxi driving is only my side job. 
My main work is in the File Transfer Safes Administration of a large insurance company, 
a job filled with pressure, responsibility and constant deadlines.  
The stress can be overwhelming.

When the workday becomes too heavy, I find balance in going out: 
cafés, restaurants, theatre, cinema. 
These places give me air, movement, color and life. 
They remind me that even in stressful times, joy still exists.

Or I go dancing, letting the music carry me, and now and then fortune smiles 
and I find myself on a date.

And on every second weekend, my time belongs to my children — unless those 
hours drift toward the woman who holds my heart, or toward the gentle solitude 
of my music archive, where the record player hums almost without pause, 
where I cook myself a simple, good meal, and end the night on my own sofa, 
wrapped in a movie and the soft company of being alone.

My home office in 2025.