Before her passing, Stav let art express who she was and how she felt as a person through her craft. Art was a way for Stav to step outside of herself and illustrate her emotions and thoughts. In the link above, you will be directed to Stav's Art Page on INSTAGRAM, where you can get a deeper understanding of who Stav was. With each of her beautiful pieces, is a description of the potential meaning behind her art. If any designs spark your eye, please be sure to send us an email and we can put it on a shirt for you!


A vivid representation of depression. What we cannot see still exists. We all seem to find ourselves trapped in our own heads at times, but some may take longer than others to climb out. When we find ourselves trapped in such a way, it may be hard to find the good in this world. But we have to trust that there is light at the end of these dark tunnels we occasionally cross. Depression has no face, it hides in the thoughts of its victims, and lies hidden amongst us, leaving the rest of us oblivious. This painting can have many meanings to it especially when examined deeply enough.



The question is to everyone but illustrated through the idea of make up: Does the make up on your face represent who you are? Or is it all just a mask to hide who you really are inside. In times like today, it is a trend to hide our inner beauty (who we really are) and project this image that only exists in the eyes of others. An image that we know society will approve of. And the best way we tend to express this rejection to who we are is through these masks we put on. Many of us let these masks represent who we are. Overtime, when we put out this image, we may find that it gets even harder to show the world what’s really hiding under this mask. So we continue to promote this false self image, to ultimately let this mask become a part of who we are.
The astrological descriptions attached to the seven classical planets have been preserved since ancient times. Astrologers call the seven classical planets "the seven personal and social planets", because they are said to represent the basic human drives of every individual. The personal planets are the Sun, Moon, Mercury, Venus and Mars. The social or transpersonal planets are Jupiter and Saturn. The interpersonal connection between two people causes these personal and transpersonal features to not only merge, but simply become a whole. Aside from the artistic talent which Stav has illustrated here, there is a deeper meaning that she may be implying. The power which love holds has the strength to pull one out of their conscious self, creating a deeper meaning within interpersonal connection, pulling one away from who they think they may be, ultimately letting them drift into space.
Hopes, wishes, desires and aspirations for the future. Hold close any bit of hope for a happy future. When you’re constantly surrounded by misfortunes and mistakes all the time, you begin to dig this hole. And as you continue to drop into this endless hole of self loathing, this hole becomes deeper. We can let this hole get so deep, that it will start to become almost impossible to get out of it. Some of us might bury ourselves in this hole. With the last strand of hope that you have, you can only leave your trust into the hands of the universe. Which you are. Without you, a part of the universe would be missing. The universe, being the holder of possibilities, hopes and dreams, may be the only thing you have left to hold onto. When Stav died, it was hard to keep myself out of this hole, but putting my trust in the universe, and letting it take me in its hands, gave me the power and perseverance that I needed to be strong again. In an odd way, we are the universe, every single one of us.




My family members are Van Gogh paintings in an art museum. We originated on the other side of the world, Israel to be exact. Israel is the Van Gogh in this gigantic world of Amsterdam. He was not liked by many, because people never cared to know his true story until it was too late. He got picked on a lot and not appreciated as much as he should have been. When he was bullied, the rest of the world blocked it out. I lived in Israel until I was seven and that was when my parents learned that it is not safe for us to live there anymore. I took my family for granted, thinking each of us individual paintings will always stick together within our painter, Van Gogh.

Once Van Gogh died for us, my family and I moved to America. I am the Starry Night. I moved with the rest of my family to the Museum of Modern Art. Most of our family paintings are left back in Europe. Although we came from the same artist, we will likely not see much of them again. As of us here who made it to America, we are just as separated from each other as we are from our artist’s paintings back home. Each of us is hanging on a different wall in a different room. Each of us is surrounded by paintings from different artists all around us. Those are the ones we get to know, the faces we get to study, the gardens and rooms and oceans we get to share our lives with. We are used to the comfort of these paintings more than of our own artist’s after so much time apart from them.

As the Starry Night, I hang on my own wall alone. That is how I live my life: with people walking past me, trying to understand me, and thinking that they do. They’ll never really know who I am. The only one who can truly understand me is the one who created me. I am too far from my artist now. As long as we are apart, I will never feel whole again. My favorite paintings are still a world away. Being the Starry Night, I don’t feel very connected to the paintings that came here to America with me. We are from the same artist, we are made up from the same brush strokes, and our paint came from the same tray, yet we are so different. We are always in the same building, but know nothing of each other. Then again, I can be surrounded by all these paintings on the walls around me, but none of them will ever know what it is like to be on my lone wall. I bet the rest of Van Gogh’s paintings feel the same.

Only on rare occasions will we get to see our artist again, because he is a part of us, he is ours, but no one else will ever get to know him the way we do. At the end of the day, I am still apart from the only painting that ever truly understood me, my grandma, the Sunflower. She may be on the other side of the world, but I will always feel more connected to her than the paintings that came with me to America. For those who are here, we are each our own individual masterpiece; we will never truly know each other. At the end of the day, we live under the same roof, just in different rooms that never see the light of day.