Hey Reader,
This sculpture is 13 years in the making.
I was 19 years old and a freshman in college when I learned the term “Kintsugi.” I fell in love with its meaning and got it tattooed onto my left bicep.
Kintsugi is a pottery technique rooted in the Wabi Sabi philosophy*. It is when a ceramic piece breaks, rather than discarding the pieces, they are glued back together with gold in the cracks. It is a beautiful way to make the work whole again without hiding the cracks that are now part of its story. In fact, the piece is considered more beautiful than it was before because of its journey.
When I started ceramics I had already had “Kintsugi” tattooed on my arm, and in my mind, for years. I desperately wanted to try it out. However, to honor the practice, the break has to happen organically and authentically…but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t break a piece to try it out in my first year of ceramics. Well, that piece turned out looking like shit, and I think that’s fitting.
Since then I’ve been waiting, a quiet and nervous excitement simmering below the surface. A nervousness that something I worked hard on might break, but also the anticipation that I will get to try out the technique I’ve been so fascinated by.
Then it happened. At my first group exhibit, another featured artist accidentally knocked my sculpture off its pedestal. The sound felt impossible; loud and then immediately dead silent. The room was full of attentive people, all waiting to listen to us speak on a panel. Well, at least they knew which work was mine now! The curator tried to crack a supportive joke, the other artist was fighting back tears. I was trying (and failing) to brush away the tension.
And then it hit me. This was my Kintsugi moment! My sculpture was on the ground in 10+ pieces, and I was actually excited.
Originally, the sculpture that broke was called The Light Within. It was a discussion of the inherent light that trans individuals carry within us. We light the way for others to follow their own authenticity.
In its new form, recreated with Kintsugi, I think this piece has become a truer representation of the trans experience.
I want to be clear, being trans does not make me broken. Wabi Sabi teaches us that the beauty of all things comes from their inherent impermanence, imperfection, and incompletion. Being trans is an ongoing process that comes with scars, visible and not. The light within me shines through my physical top surgery scars. And the gold accentuates the hidden scars. They are all equally beautiful, and they have infinite possibilities to show themselves unexpectedly.
A Collaboration with Fate and Light is available for purchase first exclusively to my subscribers. Email or DM me for more details.
Gratefully,
Mal
