Ceramic vessel with tummy from "Still Point" series
500 ₪
<article class="description js-description " "="" style="box-sizing: border-box; float: left; width: 572px;">Sculpture from the series “Still point”
2023, Israel
Materials: stoneware, wax
Height: 31 cm
Width: 24 cm
This vessel-sculpture is part of an exhibition project.
It is based on my personal story of adaptation in a new land. In early 2022, my husband, daughter, and I arrived in Israel. It was like being born again: everything is unknown, nerves are exposed. I felt defenseless against this vast new world.
And so I sat and sought help in meditation. To turn off my head at least for a while, to suspend my restless thoughts. And then, as if out of nowhere, an image came to me: I was standing on the sand, and from under the sand hands were reaching out to me. Women's hands - different, wrinkled, young, childlike. I stand in suspense: what to expect from them? But they hug my legs and support me so I don't fall. They gave me strength and blessed me to travel the earth. This strength was from generations of women who lived on this earth before me - so strong, free, joyful, suffering and able to love, able to accept and support those in need.
Since that moment, I have lived with that experience and know that I will not fall. And that everything will be okay.
I have filled my vessels with this faith and knowledge. Many of us are like those vessels - open, fragile, in need of support. And it is there: invisible hands give us strength, even if not all and not always visible. We only need to trust them.
2023, Israel
Materials: stoneware, wax
Height: 31 cm
Width: 24 cm
This vessel-sculpture is part of an exhibition project.
It is based on my personal story of adaptation in a new land. In early 2022, my husband, daughter, and I arrived in Israel. It was like being born again: everything is unknown, nerves are exposed. I felt defenseless against this vast new world.
And so I sat and sought help in meditation. To turn off my head at least for a while, to suspend my restless thoughts. And then, as if out of nowhere, an image came to me: I was standing on the sand, and from under the sand hands were reaching out to me. Women's hands - different, wrinkled, young, childlike. I stand in suspense: what to expect from them? But they hug my legs and support me so I don't fall. They gave me strength and blessed me to travel the earth. This strength was from generations of women who lived on this earth before me - so strong, free, joyful, suffering and able to love, able to accept and support those in need.
Since that moment, I have lived with that experience and know that I will not fall. And that everything will be okay.
I have filled my vessels with this faith and knowledge. Many of us are like those vessels - open, fragile, in need of support. And it is there: invisible hands give us strength, even if not all and not always visible. We only need to trust them.
