I've known about Kintsugi, the art of precious scars, for a while now. And although I found it fascinating, restoring something I'd normally discard without a second thought, and highlighting its imperfections to make it extraordinary, never appealed to me until l went through the year that was 2020.
And last year didn't happen to me alone. I can't think of anyone I know whose world wasn't turned upside down. Whose lives didn't come to a screeching halt. Figuratively or literally.
If it is true that art mirrors life, then I hope that this Kintsugi-inspired series could be a reflection of what it means to be human: how we all get pounded every now and then, how we all break, how we all have to pick up our broken pieces and deal with them so that we might find a way to be whole again.
And while we can try to conceal the scars, a question begs to be asked--whatever for?
Our scars are proof that we have overcome difficulties. They mark time and history, and like trophies, proclaim to the world that we've fought and triumphed! We ought to celebrate our scars, not hide them.
Perhaps 2021 is a good time to redefine what wholeness looks like, and see the beauty and fortitude that can come from brokenness. Especially our own.
For those of you who took a mighty beating last year yet made it through, scarred but stronger, broken yet never more whole, this series is meant to celebrate you- the unbroken.