The Art of Kintsugi
Kintsugi (金継ぎ) (Japanese: golden joinery) or Kintsukuroi (金繕い) (Japanese: golden repair) is the Japanese art of fixing broken pottery with a lacquer resin sprinkled with powdered gold. Kintsugi may have originated when shogun Ashikaga Yoshimasa sent a damaged Chinese tea bowl back to China for repairs in the late 15th century. When it was returned repaired with ugly metal staples, it may have prompted Japanese craftsmen to look for a more aesthetic means of repair. Collectors became so enamored of the new art that some were accused of deliberately smashing valuable pottery so it could be repaired with the gold seams of kintsugi.
What does Kintsugi mean to me?
Recently, friend and fellow poet Kim Koning extended an invitation to join the newly-formed Kintsugi Poets Society. It was impossible to resist that invitation--not only had I been away from my poetic roots for far too long, I also resonated with the philosophy behind the Society.
Poetry, for me, has always had an element of Kintsugi. My poems, as dark as they may be sometimes, gleam with a glint of emotion. The precious threads of pain and loss that accompany every joy. The streaks of beauty that lace through the fabric of death. The discovery of new reality after being conquered.
I am a Kintsugi Poet because I use words to join the pieces of my life, to pull together the shards of broken experiences, to heal the rifts between what is and what should be. Poetry is the golden glue that binds me together and makes me whole.
Poetry is Chiaroscuro. Poetry is Kintsugi. Poetry is Life.
I'm proud to join the other members of the Kintsugi Poets Society in the July 2013 Poetry Blog Hop. I'm excited to work with many poets I've known for some time as well as many new faces, whom I hope to get to know better. All of us will be sharing our private work with readers and poets.
Hope to see you there.
Click here (or on either graphic) to visit the Kintsugi Poets main site.
A Special Offering...
By Ash Krafton
Once I dreamed of my soul-mate, a specter that rose up
from shadowed street with tangled limb and perfect grace
to hover at the edge of my sunlight
And I kissed him with the same desperation as I would an Angel
Innocence tarnished with the tinges of foresight
knowing love is damnable and lovers are damned
And I kissed him knowing his soul would pour forth
to cling to my wicked glistening lips
before withering and flaking away upon the swollen wind
And I kissed him planning how best to pierce him through
Sever his heart and separate the beats
like swept piles of dust waiting to be collected
I kissed him wondering if I'd see him again
on this side or on the other
He could never make that journey alone.
Knowing he had to die one day
I gave him a single taste of what life might be like
had he or any other man ever deserved to live
as if this Meridiana ever deserved to be loved by one such as him.
Better to avoid sleep altogether
so as not to destroy yet another dream.