Illuminated Scars

For decades I have admired Kintsugi, the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with precious metals and always thought it an improvement on otherwise dull objects.

Kintsugi is grounded in the Japanese concept of Wabi-Sabi which celebrates the beauty of impermanence, imperfection and in-completeness.
The concept that nothing stays forever and that our lives are filled with fragility, setbacks and unpredictability was, to me, terrifying, and Sisyphus-like I spent most of my life fighting it.
Until I couldn’t.

Kintsugi brings beauty to the idea that instead of hiding the damage, we gild the repair with precious metals, illuminating our damage, incompleteness and imperfections.
Instead of viewing weakness and flaws as something that needs to be hidden, it offers the opportunity for transformation by piecing the shattered together to form something altogether different and more beautiful.

An obvious metaphor for what I endure.

The moment I heard that Luke was dead, I shattered.
I knew nothing, least of all me, was ever going to be the same…
and I was right.
From my handwriting to the way I breathe, I altered.
And yet, somehow I am restored.

This alteration was distressing at first as I could not find my way back.
There was no way back.

Finding a way forward cracks and all, I found a new Sheila.
It was as though she was sitting patiently waiting for me.

My handwriting has new flairs, my drawing has found a new line.
My voice has a new resolve and my work saves lives (there’s the beauty).
My breathing is still weird but seems to serve me.

I wear my fragility like a superpower, with my love on the outside.
My scars are illuminated with gilded tears, for all to see.

And I am OK with that.