Western interest in Kintsugi pottery has increased over the last ten years, perhaps in response to changing attitudes to mass production, consumption and waste. Domestic recycling has led logically to the ‘upcycling’ of vintage and contemporary objects, and there is a growing market for damaged or age worn items that have been polished up, improved or altered to make some new, fascinating art piece.

Despite being a highly visual technique, Kintsugi draws attention to the life, rather than the look of a pot

Pottery has benefited hugely from this attitude to broken things, as evidenced by a glut of recent art shows in which makers are upcycling their hearts out and producing wonderfully curious and refreshingly new ceramic works.

Despite being a highly visual technique, Kintsugi draws attention to the life, rather than the look of a pot. Think of it: you imagine, then craft a gorgeous pot, and it leaves your hands and begins a life with other people, in a different place, and is used by a family, perhaps generations of that family, or is gifted to a loved one, taken overseas, or left alone for years in a cupboard before being brought out, dusted off, and adored as a ‘family’ piece, the facts of its history totally forgotten.

Then some rampant toddler makes a grab for it and oh dear, it’s a gonner, smashed to pieces on the floor. To throw the pot away is to destroy its unique story. To repair it the Kintsugi way is to continue its tale of adventure and triumph.

Life is our own tale of adventures and triumphs. I hope when my daughters encounter the real trials of life, they will look at their Kintsugi pots and won’t be afraid to show their scars and say ‘I have already had a life, but I’m totally up for another, because there really is so much more to me now than there was before.’