The Secret Truths of Kintsukuroi

March 2013

Kintsukuroi: (n.) “to repair with gold”; the art of repairing pottery with gold or silver lacquer and understanding that the piece is more beautiful for having been broken

A shy idea nudges at the soul of a thinker who is surprised by a tentative truth found within oneself. There is hope in the conception and faith that with a little nurture this tiny truthful thing will grow into its own thing: newly formed.

The excavation of ideas of truth from a conceptual place of vision feel much like digging up clay from deep within. Something unseen is being investigated through curious exploration. There’s now dirt under fingernails that dig. The nail of the index finger rips below the quick.

Yet with excitement the explorer determines to mould the excavated clay and like a potter at a wheel, sets the ideas to be spun: sculptured, caressed, crushed, re-formed, soothed and smoothed. Perhaps it’s not quite what the maker anticipated but there it is: something precious is taking on a new form.

The shape is fired and glazed and then emerges in the presence of audience. The thing newly formed is scrutinised and evaluated; even lauded and applauded as lovers of this kind of art howl in pleasure at the glory of the created thing- found.

When exactly this carefully crafted piece crashes to the ground is hard to say. Sometimes it doesn’t: it remains motionless.

But sometimes in the howling there is an almighty crash and the beautiful thing is smashed.

Pieces litter the heart of the maker; sometimes even piercing the creative spirit, causing it to bleed out. When this happens it can take a long time before the maker will touch clay again.

But the discerning explorer will see the pieces: remnants of truth and realise it’s not an ending. There is that quiet sense that something unseen remains littered amongst the shattered fragments.

With tenderness and patience, the maker gathers the splintered pieces. It takes time to find the lost shapes, and it is both a lonely and painfully brave journey.

This story of finding is really the story of making and begins here: with tears for what was broken and then lost. I know of no better way to be drawn deeper in to the finding than to surrender to the call to let go. It helps to take a deep breath in.

Then breathe out and turn your attention to scavenge amongst the debris: to find.

I think this is the point at which we lose heart: both in the finding and the making. The memory of that first created thing becomes a glorified idol: a memory of something it never really was in the first place.

Perseverance is replaced with disillusionment. Fear overshadows hope. We look at the pieces and despair. All that work: shattered. That beautiful idea: crushed.

I’ve found that the secret of making is to sit amongst the pieces: to wait. It is not to abandon the fragments of ideas or dismiss previous ideas as flawed truths. The secret is to see the possibilities in the pieces: to love each tiny chipped bit.

The secret is to gather and to mend. Fire up a kiln: create anew.

The secret is not just to persevere: it’s to love. To love the broken idea is truly gracious, but to love the embodied idea in the unexpected form of a broken person is profound grace.

Broken things, scarred things: things found in each one of us are where beauty can be more fully seen. The wise maker responds intuitively to the damaged things and the discerning seeker knows when to let the pieces rest in order to embrace the person in pieces.

Many of us are making all sorts of things out of clay. But when our wonderful things are shattered and the pieces are scattered, I’ve discovered not everyone wants to let go to gather or seek or make something new.

But here’s another secret I’ve discovered: those willing to take that brave and lonely path will uncover something miraculous in the journey. For it is a gorgeous truth to understand that the pieces we have been working on are more beautiful for having been broken.

It is also quite a realisation that letting those pieces be put back together with seams of gold will reveal the truth of making as a mystery; a profound mystery, certainly beyond my own human comprehension. I also suspect it is this mystery wherein the true beauty of truth resides.