As a graphic designer, I am used to seeing the months of the year by colors. For most of my life, October was painted in the warmest and most joyful shades there are. This love for this month goes with me all the way back to childhood. It was always our month, the absolute peak of the year for us. This coming Monday,

As a graphic designer for 30 years, my brain doesn't really know how to shut off. Every walk down the street here in Albania is like wandering through a massive canvas, one where the colors spilled a bit outside the lines. The relocation to Tirana sharpened my gaze, and suddenly the most mundane things become a crazy composition of culture, history, and absurdity. Here is the second compilation from my visual diary, a collection of moments that demanded I stop, observe, and c

Three years ago, I stood in front of a gorgeous summer fruit platter at a networking event for female business owners. In the center of the platter, a pineapple crown rested as a decoration, and at its base, I noticed tiny roots peeking out. I'm really not the plant-growing type; that has always been Etai's domain. But Yifat, a friend of mine standing next to me, suggested I just take this crown, put it in a glass of water, and see what happens. Out of pure curiosity, I decid

Living in a foreign country means your eyes are always wide open. As a graphic designer I communicate through visuals, my brain automatically translates every image into composition and shape, but through the iPhone lens, I capture the dissonance in particular. The gap between what I knew in Israel and the reality I meet here on the street. I collect these moments - moments of local focus.