One of the things that draws me to Kintsugi is collaboration. When I fix a treasure, it connects me across space, across time, across culture with the artist who made the object, the folx who used it, saved the shattered pieces. Holding shards feels like holding a broken heart. And piecing the puzzle together is an act of hope.
These two pieces, for example, were made by a friend, an artist from Brooklyn. Oh! You can look him up here. (Haha. I am so punny)
Despite being dead broke, I bought them at a fundraiser for the art department. This was centuries ago.
Since then, these creatures have circumnavigated the globe with me. I kept using them, despite the occasional crack. A few months ago, it dawned on me – hello duh, KINT. SU. GI.
I am happy to spend hours hunched over beloved objects for other people, so it is amusing it never occurred to me to fix something for myself.
They look so regal, don’t they? A friend asked me if I would sell them, and I don’t think I can. Is that just sentimental, or sacred?
This piece is another such treasure. (Although in this case, I did part with it)
My bestie had this cup customized for me in Jordan. It is made by a super talented artist, whom I have never met. On my hardest days, I have cupped it, giggled, and basked in the warmth of love.
When I first noticed the crack, I was upset, and then secretly thrilled. I knew I was going to fix it and mail it thousands of miles to my boo. I wonder what she is going to do with it…