Torn between life and art

I am about to go on a vacation.

I need this vacation.

No, I mean, I really need this vacation.

Now, mind you, this vacation will be in New Jersey, and it will be inhabited by my children, which some people by default would call “travel with children,” not a vacation.

But let’s not get too technical or too obnoxious.

I am going on vacation.

And by choice, I will be disconnecting.

Yup — disconnecting.

I will not be bringing my smartphone with me, which is a lot easier when you live in Israel because it requires some energy and some money to make my smartphone work in America.

And I will not be bringing my laptop with me, which is a lot easier when you live in Israel because no one likes schlepping a heavy PC with them through airport security, or shuffling your feet around a bulky backpack under the seat in front of you.

And I won’t be checking my work email.

My out-of-the-office reply will be for realsies.

I will be gone.

And it won’t be very hard.

But disconnecting from blogging and from instagram will be.

Blogging and instagram ease my pain, clear my head, help me connect to the beauty in my heart and in the world.

Blogging and photography heal me.

Now, of course, I could still write, and still take pictures. Pen and paper, those old things. There’s my not-so-ancient digital camera that’s been collecting dust underneath my desk.

Maybe I’ll fall back in love with the lens.

But something tells me I won’t.

Why not bring the smartphone but just turn off email, ignore the alert?

Won’t work.

Technology is an addiction, and I get rid of addictions by going cold turkey.

Cold turkey is how I got rid of cigarettes and how I got rid of gluten.

And cold turkey will be how I get rid of technology.

At least for two weeks.

Maybe.

I’m still torn.