Mending Grace reflects on abundance and deprivation being spiritually bound, and how ‘to mend’ is to atone. This is not only about the weaponization of food in Gaza and here at home in the United States, but more about the spiritual hunger that grows when compassion is starved. It is a meditation on complicity, on grace lost and grace reclaimed, and on the hope that this blessing may return to us someday.

Rather than restore them to usefulness, the work lingers in the space where healing is partial and responsibility remains. The ruptures in the pots echo images of famine and deprivation, and the mending in the holes acknowledge complicity while refusing abandonment. Here, repair is not redemption; it is fidelity,  the decision to not turn away and stay  with what has been harmed even when wholeness is impossible.

Mending Grace thus becomes a cosmological gesture; a small but meaningful effort to hold things together even as the world frays. It is an archival activism of the spirit, enacted through repair, care as record, and mending as remembrance.