A month after my son’s passing, my dear friend from Israel flew in to spend time with me in New York and console me. She knew me and my children well and understood a bit of what I was going through. During this period, I received an invitation to participate in a theme-based sculpture exhibition in Israel. Honestly, I had no intention of taking part in this show; let’s be honest,  I was in no mood to head to my studio and start rough-cutting a block of raw stone.   My friend snatched the invitation from me and insisted, "You are doing this!" I thought she was crazy and muttered to myself, "Yeah, right, no way," as she started explaining what they were seeking. The theme was to create a piece representing the two branches of Judaism, Sephardic and Ashkenazi. Growing up as a Sephardic woman raised in America, I understood the struggles of being a minority and challenging societal norms and boundaries that no longer resonated with me.   My friend, who had been by my side for two decades, understood that what I needed most was to push myself and rediscover my passion for sculpting. I envisioned two forms emerging from a common origin, diverging in opposite directions and bent down in sorrow.   I ventured to the garage and found a rare 100-pound block of purple alabaster, which I dragged into my studio. Alabaster was my choice for its softness, allowing for quick rough cuts. As I began to carve the stone, I fell into a trance, feeling detached from reality.   My friend truly understood me. Sculpting, above all else, became the therapy I needed to start healing from the most profound trauma of my life. Although the piece wasn't chosen for the show due to high shipping costs to Israel, it didn't matter. What mattered was that it reignited my creative drive, helped me return to working mode, and kickstarted my healing journey through my art. This experience paved the way for my upcoming project at Marble/marble the following summer.   …some embrace and support each other.   Dimensions: 15”h X 12”w X 7”d.