Kintsugi, mending and escapes.
Filed under Essay.
I discovered something new last week: kintsugi, the Japanese art of fixing broken pottery. What’s interesting is that, instead of an invisible repair, the goal is to transform the object, using a special lacquer dusted with a gold, silver or platinum powder. The seams—the imperfections—are thus highlighted, creating an entirely new identity.
My mind immediately went to obvious metaphors: beauty through damage; resilience in the face of obsolescence; a transformation from trial. Of course a quick web search immediately unearthed dozens upon dozens of articles and books about Kintsugi, as it relates to mindfulness and personal growth...so much for my unique insight ;)
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Attempt at distraction.
I’m desperate to claim that all is fine. That I don’t mind the timeless void, the insecurity and looming winter; that I’m still drinking from a well unlikely to ever run dry. But bullsh$# would be the appropriate term to use here.
Yesterday I went driving, on a road I’ve followed a thousand times before, but it felt unknown. Like I was simultaneously sitting behind the wheel and in the passenger seat—in full control yet passive. Both sides equal, fighting and unable to merge into one.
I feel the pull of photography receding lately and that scares the hell out of me. I see images and tend to leave them there. The interest remains but the hunger to shoot is mostly absent. I’ve been here before—most of us have—but never with such a vague, empty blur ahead of me.
So I escape through other means.
On Friday I installed Big Sur—I jumped straight in. I had a backup and figured I’d use the weekend to restore the system if things went wrong. They didn’t: everything on my aging iMac still works perfectly. Better even (except for my AirPods Pro which are now buggy and rarely connect to the machine...looks like I’m not alone on this one). On Saturday, we decided our piano needed a proper spot: it was meant to go in the tv room downstairs but had been sitting in the middle of the studio space for several months, waiting for eventual movers. Insert lockdown issues+cost+whatever...we changed our minds. I rearranged the room, the lighting and now the big century-old upright seems intentional instead of “permanently temporary”. Makes the space a hell of a lot less cluttered too.
I (belatedly) updated my X-T3 to the latest firmware and the autofocus speed boost is impressive. It was never lacking but the change is decidedly noticeable.
Capture One 21 is coming (mildly interesting features this year… hopefully more will follow). Pixelmator Pro 2.0 as well (this one does look impressive…and it’s a free upgrade). It’s always nice to get a new shine on our everyday tools...it adds that twinkle, however transient. I also discovered a new note taking app called Craft that is probably the most impressive, well-designed and feature-complete 1.0 version of anything I’ve ever used. It’s like someone asked me what I needed and built 98% of it (1). So I’ve been exploring that.
And then last night I recorded a rather messy piece of music… which sounds like a fittingly uneven path.
But let’s circle back to kintsugi: I’m fascinated by the concept. Can we apply this to photography? And if so on what level: aesthetic, philosophical? Can we extend the idea of transformed fragments to stories, to artwork? I’ve played with possibilities but I’m not there yet. I do know, however, that we could all do with a bit of renewal right now.
That, and splendour rising from broken pieces.
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Specifically in terms of curating content and assembling it for the newsletter. I’ll probably write about that process at some point if anyone’s interested.
