As you may know, we were recently planning to host an art workshop at the barn called, Kintsugi. This is a Japanese form of art in which broken items are repaired with a gold epoxy to highlight the beauty in the brokenness.
In preparation for this event, I went to a local shop in search of unique ceramic pieces for us to use for this project. While I was checking out, with my odd purchase of about 25 different ceramic items, the cashier picked up a pink and white bowl and audibly admired it's beauty. We chatted about what I was planning to do with all of these knick-knacks and the meaning behind it all.
She began wrapping each item in newspaper to keep them from shattering during transport. As she reached to grab a new item off the over-crowded checkout counter, she knocked the pink bowl that she had commented on earlier to the ground. It immediately broke into a dozen pieces. Mortified, she apologized profusely but I assured her it was perfectly fine and the item was still of use to me. In that moment I knew that bowl was hers.
Later that week I set out to piece together the broken bowl to share as a demo with my art group and then ultimately gift back to the cashier to whom it truly belonged. Once completed, I brought the bowl, along with all of the other pottery I had purchased, to the barn in preparation for the upcoming event. All of the ceramics were stored on a shelf in my tack room, ready to become something spectacular. But that day would not come...
On February 13, a massive fire completely destroyed our barn, and everything in it. As we mourned the devastation that wreaked such havoc on all of our hard work, we gathered up our courage and began working towards cleanup and rebuild efforts.
On February 24, a wrecking crew tore down the remaining shards of metal and debris, throwing it into a dumpster and carrying it away forever. All that remained was a deeply charred foundation and the stubs of mangled posts, which once so proudly supported this beautiful structure.
Today, we wandered around the lot, still in awe at the destruction. We shared memories of what once was and conjured up ideas of what's to come. And then I saw it. Something pink caught my eye. Could the wrecking crew have actually left something behind? But there they were, pressed into the charred remains, three small pieces of the pink bowl. The very bowl that had already held such a significant place in my heart, and the hearts of other. The bowl that was the original symbol for finding beauty in brokenness. The bowl that no matter what difficulties it faced, was clearly strong enough to survive.
I am in awe at finding these pieces. Literally, the only thing that remains of all of my equipment, tack, and supplies. Surviving the fall from the counter, then the fire, and then still the wrecking crew. What an incredibly beautiful reminder of the strength and beauty we are truly capable of.
Finding these pieces today brings me joy in knowing that we too may feel broken at this moment in time, but we are stronger than we realize and beautiful things are coming.
Much love to you all. ❤️