Quotes

THE RISING SUN AND THE BOILING POT

ライジング サンボイリング ポット

A book about cultural displacement and me.
Hand bound, hand painted, manually typed, gold origami crane insert, read back to front.

'I will piece myself together, the way the Japanese use Kintsugi to piece together broken pottery. Gold will fill my scars, the missing parts to me celebrating and embracing the person I have become.'

Growing up, there was always this feeling of my culture being so hidden and kept as a secret from me. There was this huge separation between looking Japanese but sounding ‘European’; it was a detaching feeling.

Within the Japanese culture, there is a big thing about avoiding confrontation which I have felt I have done a lot of growing up. I never wanted to confront the isolation, the separation and the hot bubbling feeling of being so far away from something which should be so close. But quite frankly, that lead me on to being more separated- stuck in a mental void of endless questions and criticism.

Living in New Zealand, we live, breathe and celebrate the multiculturalism which resides in our small country. I tend not to call myself Japanese unless it is to an old white person sitting across a table from me.

The Rising Sun and the Boiling pot was made for me.

It’s for the messy, chaotic, bubbling feeling of figuring things out.

It’s a conversation. It’s a love letter. It’s a story, an insight. It’s a representation of who I am and where I stand in relation to my Japanese culture.
I stand in this in-between space.

I don’t know how to pronounce my name anymore but there are memories about the way my grandma calls me. She would say it down the hallway, her voice echoing as she rolls the ‘r’ in my name. It would punch through the silence.

It disappears the more I stay in my own room in a place where I have no one to share my mother tongue with. The history and the language of my heritage will be buried in the ground with all my family.

I will piece together myself, the way that Japanese use Kintsugi to piece together broken pottery. Gold will fill my scars, the missing parts to me celebrating and embracing the person I have become.