Kintsugi & Collage
I often ask myself, “Why do I create collage artworks?” It’s a deceptively simple question, yet, the answer runs deeper than I initially imagined. To truly understand it, I’d have to look back at my own past, my experiences, and the people who shaped my view of life. Before I ever picked up a pair of scissors or started gluing fragments of paper to canvas, I met people who had faced unimaginable hardships, yet somehow carried a strength that transcended their pain.
I’ve spoken with people who had their lives forever altered by tragedy. Some were in car accidents, left paralyzed and bound to a wheelchair. Others had lost their sight and had to relearn the world through senses they had previously taken for granted. Many were fighting invisible battles—against mental illness, against cancer, against grief that gnawed at them from the inside. Despite all that, they still found a reason to smile, a reason to laugh, even in the face of all that chaos.
What struck me was their resilience. These people wore their scars as badges of honor, finding strength and even beauty in their survival. They reminded me of Kintsugi—the Japanese art of mending broken pottery with gold, transforming damage into something beautiful. Their lives, marked by breaks and fractures, were not hidden away or discarded; they were highlighted, celebrated, gilded in gold. To me, they became whole again, not in spite of their scars but because of them.
Unconsciously, these memories and stories have found their way into my collages. When I assemble pieces torn and discarded, there’s a sense of resurrecting something broken and giving it new life. Every piece I use has its own history, its own journey. By piecing them together, I create a new story, layered with memories and meaning. It’s as if there’s more beauty in an object after it has been destroyed and reassembled—more depth, more soul. Art, in many ways, should echo this transformative process. Just as life is filled with moments of joy, sadness, triumph, and despair, a piece of art should capture that entire spectrum, not only the polished or pristine.
Collage mirrors the therapeutic essence of Kintsugi. In this art form, there’s a process of breaking and rebuilding, a sense of healing embedded in every torn edge and imperfect seam. Collage allows us to reassemble what is broken, and in doing so, offers a form of rebirth. This practice has grounded me, helping me process my own struggles, losses, and triumphs, and I genuinely believe it can be a powerful outlet for anyone facing hardship.
For me, collage is not merely an art form; it’s a philosophy, a way to embrace and honor the fragments of ourselves that we might otherwise discard or hide. My life’s work is to encourage others to explore this medium, to find comfort in the process, to piece together their own lives, one fragment at a time. And just as in Kintsugi, I hope they discover that what has been shattered can be beautiful—that the scars we carry are not imperfections to be hidden, but marks of resilience to be celebrated.
