YEHUDIT
FEINSTEIN
MENTESH

Why is it so hard to find and listen to our own inner voice? What happened along the way that we learned not to hear it? These questions have stayed with me for years, often surfacing when I’m faced with life’s quietest yet most profound moments. A Childhood of Silence and Strength I was born just over a year after my father returned home as a POW from Egypt. It was the mid-seventies, and no one truly understood post-trauma or the ripple effects it had on families. My father

For many years, my relationship with art was like an engine carefully hidden under layers. That space of quiet distance allowed me to...

The older I get, the more I realize that there are dreams we’ve carried with us for a long time—sometimes for so long that we almost...

Late afternoon on a Sunday, the end of a weekend, and almost the beginning of a long week at the studio. I just finished my last Sunday...

There’s food in the fridge, the house is tidy, the laundry is folded The closet is organized. Everything is alright. The kids are at...

Now I’m writing about the yearning. About those dreams. About our lake. Chairs standing in the wind. Snow that piles up on trees. There’s...

It was one of the most challenging years that I’ve known. The difficulty penetrated slowly, and every time it seemed that it was over or...