25% of the sale of this artwork will support:
- Watermelon Relief (@watermelonrelief), a Palestinian father and cook living in Gaza who buys groceries, cooks them up in big pots and feeds the children who are living in tents.
- Standing Together (www.standing-together.org), a grassroots movement of Jews and Palestinians living in Israel, rooted in pluralism and inclusivity; working for peaceful negotiation, human rights for all, and ultimately, PEACE. Currently in action protecting aid trucks into Gaza and protesting for ceasefire.
Hope Will Be the Death of Me
on the shore, Hope finds my hand.
"are we okay?"
"i don't feel okay," i say. "are you bleeding?"
we wait here twelve whole months—
but the waves never stop rolling in:
smashed pottery and medical supplies and cameras,
bits of kitchens and classrooms and home streets,
pieces of children and mothers and men.
thoughts and prayers/debates and debacles.
it’s Us Or Them!
Or — never And.
never We.
We are drowning,
Us and Them,
but hiel the conquering messiah;
long live the empire.
"i’ll survive," Hope finally responds,
taking off her clothes, then mine.
we are shivering,
for it is October again.
slowly,
Hope step-step-steps into the water.
she is thin, but strong.
i do not let go of her hand.
Hope bends my knees, taking care
to fill my ears,
then my mouth.
i tip my face up, toward hers.
Hope holds me down.
it is getting too dark to see;
i am growing too cold to feel.
i gasp, then relax.
“i thought i’d lost you.”
Dimensions
10"x8"
Year
2024
Media
Acrylic, tumbled glass and Arabic pottery
Substrate
Wrapped canvas
Profile
3/4"
Finish
Satin & gloss UV varnish
25% of the sale of this artwork will support:
- Watermelon Relief (@watermelonrelief), a Palestinian father and cook living in Gaza who buys groceries, cooks them up in big pots and feeds the children who are living in tents.
- Standing Together (www.standing-together.org), a grassroots movement of Jews and Palestinians living in Israel, rooted in pluralism and inclusivity; working for peaceful negotiation, human rights for all, and ultimately, PEACE. Currently in action protecting aid trucks into Gaza and protesting for ceasefire.
Hope Will Be the Death of Me
on the shore, Hope finds my hand.
"are we okay?"
"i don't feel okay," i say. "are you bleeding?"
we wait here twelve whole months—
but the waves never stop rolling in:
smashed pottery and medical supplies and cameras,
bits of kitchens and classrooms and home streets,
pieces of children and mothers and men.
thoughts and prayers/debates and debacles.
it’s Us Or Them!
Or — never And.
never We.
We are drowning,
Us and Them,
but hiel the conquering messiah;
long live the empire.
"i’ll survive," Hope finally responds,
taking off her clothes, then mine.
we are shivering,
for it is October again.
slowly,
Hope step-step-steps into the water.
she is thin, but strong.
i do not let go of her hand.
Hope bends my knees, taking care
to fill my ears,
then my mouth.
i tip my face up, toward hers.
Hope holds me down.
it is getting too dark to see;
i am growing too cold to feel.
i gasp, then relax.
“i thought i’d lost you.”
Dimensions
10"x8"
Year
2024
Media
Acrylic, tumbled glass and Arabic pottery
Substrate
Wrapped canvas
Profile
3/4"
Finish
Satin & gloss UV varnish
