난 괜찮아♔ Fingertips tracing patterns across the canvas of the sky♕ 忙着追逐天空中的流星♙

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金継ぎ [Kintsugi] (Play)

June 10, 2018


Kintsugi (金継ぎ, "golden joinery"), also known as Kintsukuroi (金繕い, "golden repair"),[1] is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold, silver, or platinum, a method similar to the maki-e technique.[2][3][4] As a philosophy, it treats breakage and repair as part of the history of an object, rather than something to disguise.[5]
  • Crack (ひび), the use of gold dust and resin or lacquer to attach broken pieces with minimal overlap or fill-in from missing pieces
  • Piece method (欠けの金継ぎ例), where a replacement ceramic fragment is not available and the entirety of the addition is gold or gold/lacquer compound
  • Joint call (呼び継ぎ), where a similarly shaped but non-matching fragment is used to replace a missing piece from the original vessel creating a patchwork effect[14]
As a philosophy, kintsugi can be seen to have similarities to the Japanese philosophy of wabi-sabi, an embracing of the flawed or imperfect.[10][11]Japanese aesthetics values marks of wear by the use of an object. This can be seen as a rationale for keeping an object around even after it has broken and as a justification of kintsugi itself, highlighting the cracks and repairs as simply an event in the life of an object rather than allowing its service to end at the time of its damage or breakage.[12] Kintsugi can relate to the Japanese philosophy of "no mind" (無心 mushin), which encompasses the concepts of non-attachment, acceptance of change and fate as aspects of human life.[13] Kintsugi is the general concept of highlighting or emphasizing imperfections, visualizing mends and seams as an additive or an area to celebrate or focus on, rather than absence or missing pieces. Modern artists experiment with the ancient technique as a means of analyzing the idea of loss, synthesis, and improvement through destruction and repair or rebirth.[17]

金継ぎ [Kintsugi]. A Play. By Blankitude.


Enter Sora.

He is fiddling with one of his creations. A porcelain rose. The spotlight follows him as he walks to the stage center and stands.

SORA. (disgusted, emotionless)

It's so crude.
A single porcelain rose.
Clay petals bleached stark white.
Innocent, untainted.
Thin as paper, breaking at a single touch.
Delicate, fragile, precious.
Edges uneven.
Coarse, rough, imperfect.
Nature's beauty.

He looks at his reflection within the porcelain.

My eyes.

He looks at his hands holding the rose.

My hands.
Perfection can no longer exist within my creations.

He fumbles with the rose, dropping it. The rose shatters into pieces on the floor.

Porcelain against porcelain.
Skin against skin.
Withering at the touch of a kin
It's gone.
Petals lost in the air.
Sudden flood of colours onto paper, a rebirth.
Oxygenated flowers.
Much like splashes of paint on blank canvas.
A delusion shattered.
At the gentle breath of wind.

He falls to the ground, grasping his hands. The stage lights dims to gradual pitch black. Only heavy breathing can be heard.


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  • June 10, 2018 - 1:24am (Now Viewing)

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