“Not Yet” draws from an ancient story in which a woman receives six measures of grain as a sign of assurance. It wasn’t fulfillment itself, but a tangible promise that what had begun would be carried through.

The number six also echoes the six days of creation—a period of forming, shaping, and labor before completion. Six represents strength in process, something actively becoming. The seventh day signals rest and wholeness. Completion, in this sense, is not rushed. It arrives through endurance.

Today, many of us are living inside a prolonged “sixth day.” We are holding the tension of global instability, cultural fracture, personal uncertainty, and collective grief. There are atrocities and ruptures that make resolution feel distant. Yet history reminds us that seasons of upheaval often precede renewal.

Not Yet inhabits that charged threshold. Each porcelain form is fragile yet resolute, illuminated from within yet visibly incomplete. They are vessels of tension—holding both weight and light. They acknowledge that we can feel sorrow and hope at the same time. We can witness what is broken while still preparing for what is possible.

For collectors today, I see these works as companions for this era: physical reminders that becoming requires courage, that holding light alongside shadow is an active choice.

What does it mean to live faithfully in the unfinished?