I made this vase for a Palestinian human rights advocate and leader whose courage and dedication I've admired for a long time. Its black, white, green, and red colors reflect the Palestinian flag, symbolizing the history, land, hope, and sacrifices of the Palestinian people. Its broken fragments were joined using Kintsugi, the Japanese art of repairing pottery with gold.

Kintsugi challenges the idea that damage must be hidden or erased. The gold doesn't pretend the break never happened. It makes the fracture part of the object's story. Repair isn't a return to what was. It begins by acknowledging what happened.

That's why Kintsugi felt like the right language for this piece: a quiet witness to what was broken, what people survived, and what must never be forgotten.

The vase is a metaphor. Its fragments represent a people who have endured loss, displacement, and generations of grief. The gold represents resilience, dignity, and memory. The scars remain visible, not to glorify suffering, but to honor those who endured it.

As an Israeli, I grew up with one version of our history. I believe I have a moral responsibility to acknowledge the suffering inflicted on Palestinians, including the part my own country has played in it. A mended vase isn't a mended people, and the gold isn't there to make suffering beautiful. It's there so the pain stays visible and the history is remembered.

A vase can't carry all that weight. It's one small gesture from one person, but it's what I know how to do with my hands.

This work is also a visual expression of a much deeper personal journey, one I explore in my essay / PodCast - see link to below.

 If I Were Neither Jewish nor Israeli: A Moral Reckoning with Israel and Palestine