An Eastern practice originally started in Japan, Kintsugi is the art of accepting or finding beauty in what is broken, literally meaning “golden joinery." In every sense, it is similar to accepting a reality that cannot be changed for there is no time-traveling DeLorean waiting around the corner. The practice begins in the 15th century, when shogun Ashikaga Yoshimasa had a Chinese broken tea bowl fixed, only to result in it being mended by the addition of metal staples to hold the broken pieces together. The shogun’s response was to have Japanese craftsmen find a better way of mending, and they did. In fact, their work was so well done that many took to the practice of purposely breaking their own ceramics so that they would be mended with gold lining. This gold lining first began with the application of lacquer followed with a dusting of gold powder. The gold lining follows every broken path made, physically revealing the cracks in what was considered a pristine and untouched work of art. However, these cracks do not stray from the aesthetic, but rather elucidate and enhance the beauty of what is broken in the sense of surviving trauma.
In this, I am not only referring to inanimate objects but people, specifically those women who have been diagnosed with breast cancer and have had to turn to a mastectomy as a solution. This is a treatment/prevention method where the breast tissue is surgically removed. Surgery in any form is not mild or easy, and in the case of a mastectomy, some women have even referred to it as an “amputation," a technically apt description as it is a “surgical removal of an extremity."
I, myself, have not been diagnosed, but I do have it in my family history. After reading through an article that included comments from women after their post-mastectomy, there are mixed reactions that consist of grudgingly accepting, trying to rationally move on and even a great sense of loss and anxiety. There is no simple how-to-guide to have a healthy and safe recovery after a mastectomy, and considering the societal expectations of feminine beauty tied to their breasts, some have a difficult time reconciling with their own femininity. As a result, most turn to reconstruction with implants and covering their scars with tattoos.
I believe, in the terms of kintsugi, that beauty can be found even after experiencing severe damage with scars, but this beauty is also dependent upon a spirit willing to find the aesthete in broken things. People are not pottery where lacquer lined with golden powder can fix every break visible or invisible, but they can be tenacious and strong. The human body, though fragile, can be mended and scarred.
However, I do not view the scars that I have gained as a weakness or something to be ashamed of, no matter how much society would make me think otherwise. Similarly, the scars on these women from their post-mastectomy procedures signify a strength of will and a survivor’s medal to me.
My grandmother had her own mastectomy, but it was already too late, so now I try to honor her memory and these other women through the art of kintsugi. In actuality, this kintsugi can be applied to anyone who sees themselves broken and believing that there is no repair or confidence to be found from the damage received. However, there is a gold-lining that they can make to fill their broken spaces, to result in a more resplendent and stronger beauty.
