Nira Dabush Berkovitz     

 Life is a creation full of endless possibilities, which are, in fact, derived from inspiration

 from life itself. If we look closely, listen, absorb, think, examine, process the data in our

 minds – we can create.            The more we create, the more we are inspired to create

 more and more, to live a life of fulfillment.     Thoughts in one area spark creativity in other

 areas.   All that remains is for us to choose possibilities most suited for ourselves.

 Sometimes the choice can be somewhat easy, other times it can be as difficult as pangs

 of childbirth.

 Sources of inspiration, as I have mentioned, are endless. Nature, to my mind, is the most

 wonderful and fascinating creation of all, as it is to many of us. From it I take pleasure, I am

 filled with admiration,  and I absorb it all inside myself, process it, and from the inspiration

 I get, I create.

 I draw inspiration for my creativity also from various artists, design areas, music, my feelings

 and even from my dreams.

  Flashes of pictures from my childhood from the 1970’s occasionally appear and form a part of

  my inspiration for different pieces

  The apartment in Ramat - Gan, of average size, very decorative, in which I grew. Everything

  blends in so well and colours match perfectly. In the entranceway to the apartment, a low mosaic

  table, made by my father, above which sits an aquarium, beside which is a decorative metal

  partition, also hand-made by my father, with geometric motifs consisting of squares or circles

  inlaid in coloured Hebron glass, in shades of green, deep blue, oker, brown and turquoise.

  In the lounge, a table of wooden legs, and a tabletop inlaid with green glass, above which is

  a rich lampshade, handcrafted with lots of pieces of glass in shades of green and yellow with

  small patches of brown. Sofas in shades of brick red next to an oriental carpet, bordeaux and

  oker. Greenish textural wallpaper next to other circles patterned wallpaper  in orange and brown.

  In the entrance hall, a decorative wooden wall, against which stood a piano, above which was

  a designed napkin a clock and some decorative items.  Wooden images and lots of decorations.

  On the walls ,were original pictures ,which were always bought from artists or in auctions.

  lounge, which was extended onto the balcony, into which green windows were fitted, ceramic

  window boxes in green and yellow had red geraniums popping out. In this extended part of

  the lounge a large, round dark brown wooden table was placed, and around it six velvet

  - cushioned chairs speckled with orange, green, and brown above which was an orange

   lampshade whose height could be adjusted.  

  The magical musical jewellery box from the far east which my mother received the day

   I was born, a box contained, in particular, cheap plastic jewellery or coloured crystals in various colours.

   A box, I very much loved rummaging around in, the drawers of which I would turn over and,

   if I could, I would pull apart an old useless item and make it into something else.

   In the base of that same magical box was a spring, which, when  wound up , the two doors

   opened, music was heard, and a small dancing doll, reflected in seven mirrors, danced like

   eight dancers.

   The Cloths...Cloths my mother would customarily sew for a hobby. I remember accompanying

  her for years to the same shops to help her choose cloth. Left-over cloth would be passed

  on to me, from which I made clothes for my dolls, and later on I also stitched them up to make

  stuffed dolls.

   Sounds , those same sounds and also wrong notes , that resounded from various musical

   instruments, as from my stereo player.

   Smells and a rich selection of dishes that came from my mother’s kitchen.

   All these and more reside in me and penetrate my work from time to time.

   Through my work, I see myself making a decorative statement. Through my works,

   I express the small pleasures in my life in this world. By making, I get a lot of pleasure,

   as should the beholder of my works.   The pleasure of the beholder is an added bonus for me.