Mezza

On October 7th, I sat in silence as I watched the world shift in ways I couldn’t fully understand. The violence, the hate, the sense of helplessness—it left me feeling small. In the midst of all that chaos, I asked myself, like so many others: What can we do? How can we, as individuals, act? How can we contribute to something bigger than ourselves?  Last Fall I created a fundraiser and named it Artists for Ahava (love). We raised about $3000 for charities that directly supported Israeli victims and the World Central Kitchen. The response was excellent. Countless artists offered their support. But this horrible conflict has dragged on and the question still haunts me as I witness hatred spread. I have never been able to shake the thought that I must do more. From this same question, the exhibition Mezza was born.

I didn’t want this exhibition to be an answer, because I don’t have one. I wanted it to be an offering—a space where we can come together, even in our differences, to find healing, understanding, and maybe a glimmer of hope. In Mezza, the metaphor of a 'mixed plate' takes on new meaning for me. It’s about diversity, yes, but it’s also about shared humanity. It’s about women, from different places and cultures, coming together to speak their truths through their art. Their artworks together should be seen as a beacon—a way to connect, to feel, and to understand the world in ways words can’t express.

Curating this exhibition has been, in many ways, a personal journey—a way to process the overwhelming grief I felt and continue to feel. Art, for me, is a way to reclaim agency. It’s a form of resistance, a form of beauty in the face of despair. And while I know peace won’t come easily, or quickly, I do believe that art can be part of the answer. Not because it changes everything overnight, but because it speaks to something deeper, human and lasting.

I don’t have all the answers, but I believe in the power of coming together, of creating, of being vulnerable and imperfect. If Mezza offers a moment of peace, or even a question that leads to greater understanding, then it will have served its purpose. For me, this exhibition is a quiet, imperfect act of hope, one that I offer to the world with the desire that we can all find a way to work toward peace, together.