Chapter 22 — After the Cracks, I Become Myself

She stopped for a few seconds.

"I want to say..."

"You have the right."

"No fix."

The whole auditorium suddenly fell silent.

"The past two years."

"I've done a lot of Kintsugi works."

"Made a lot of cracks."

"But in the end."

"The work that pleases me the most."

"It's the vase again."

"Not welded at all."

She pointed towards the end of the exhibition.

"The bottle's mouth is chipped."

"I don't fix it."

"It's not because I'm lazy."

"But because of that gap."

"Make it more transparent."

"Light."

"You can come in."

"And humans."

"Also."

On Nhuoc Van looked at each face below.

"There are injuries."

"After being healed."

"You will become stronger."

"There are injuries."

"No cure."

"You become more transparent again."

"There are injuries again."

"You use something completely new to fill in."

"Then I found out."

"I have become a version."

"Never thought of it."

"All correct."

"It's all a choice."

"But the prerequisite is..."

“You have to give permission.”

"Myself."

"You have the right to break."

The auditorium was silent for a few seconds. Then applause rang out like waves. Wen Nhuoc Van was not used to such moments. She just bowed her head slightly. Then step aside. After sharing. Many people came to her one after another. Someone wants to exchange contact methods. There are people talking about cooperation. Someone asked to buy the work. There are also many students who come to ask for guidance. On Nhuoc Van patiently received each person. Not impatient at all. It's not a big deal. What touched her the most. Again the feedback appeared as the exhibition was about to end. A woman over sixty years old. Standing for a long time in front of the wall "The Void." On that wall. These are original ceramic pieces. Not welded at all. Not embellished. Just mere fragments. The woman turned around. The eyes were red. She walked in front of On Nhuoc Van. Don't talk much. Just say a word quietly.

"Thank you."

"Already put these in."

"Appeared."

On Nhuoc Van looked at her. Gently nodded.

"Well deserves to be seen."

The solo exhibition lasts two weeks. The number of visitors is so large that the number of people entering has to be limited. On social networks. Discussions about "Tang Khau" are increasing day by day. Not just designers. But even ordinary people come. Someone took a photo of the yellow cracked road on the exhibition background.

"It turns out brokenness can be so beautiful."

Someone took a photo of an unwelded vase. Posted with the text:

"Today I decided not to fix it anymore."

There are also people. Standing in front of the wall "The Void." Cry for a long time. My friend took a photo and posted it online. Wen Nhuoc Van did not expect it. This exhibition. It is possible to step out of the scope of the art world again. But it really did.

"What to do when everything falls apart?"

It's not just a question of art. Which is the question. Of everyone. On to the tenth day of the exhibition. Mr. Phuong found On Nhuoc Van.

"Nhuoc Van."

"There's something I want to tell you."

"You say it."

"The first."

"There are three art museums that want to collect my work."

"Two places in the country."

"A place in Japan."

On Nhuoc Van nodded slightly.

"An international ceramic art festival just sent out invitations."

"I want to invite you to attend next year."

"Which festival?"

On Nhuoc Van paused. The tea cup above The hand also stopped in mid-air. Echig sumari International Arts Festival. It is one of the world's most influential art events. Received invitation. Synonymous. Her work has been recognized internationally.

"Let me see and answer."

She spoke softly. Mr. Phuong burst out laughing.

"There is one person."

"Went to the exhibition three times."

"Just stand in front of the central vase."

"Do you want to buy it?"

"That person said."

"Just want to watch it a little longer."

On Nhuoc Van's heart wavered slightly.

"What kind of person?"

"About thirty years old."

"Wear a dark gray jacket."

Wen Nhuoc Van did not ask further. She knew who that person was. Pho Hanh Chi once said. He won't come to bother her. But he still came. Up to three times. Just to watch. Don't look for her. Do not leave a message. Don't ask anyone to convey the message. Wen Nhuoc Van doesn't know. Finally, how do I feel about it? No vibration. Not the kind of vibration that made her want to turn around. But it's also not antisemitic. In a very far away place. There is one person. Quietly watching all the good things she has done. Not required. No wishes. That feeling. Can't say it's good. Or not good. It's simple... Last day of the exhibition. Wen Nhuoc Van did one thing. She brought the main flower vase down from the display stand. Not to remove the exhibition. But because after the exhibition ends. She wanted to take that work to another place. She proactively contacted the Cultural Station of Loc Khe town. Donate a vase. For the town's newly established craft workshop. For display artifacts. When you know the story. Mr. Phuong was quite surprised.

"The market value of this work."

"It's not low right now."

"Are you sure?"

On Nhuoc Van nodded.

"It was born from Loc Khe."

"Then we should return to Loc Khe."

"So that more people can see it."

Mr. Phuong does not advise anymore. Just smiled slightly.

"Of all the artists you've represented."

"You are the person who has the most opinions about your work."

On Nhuoc Van smiled.

"It's not a commodity."

"It's the thing."

"Grow from who you are."

"It gets to where it's supposed to go."

That evening the exhibition closed. Wen Ruo Wan. Tong Thanh Nghi. And Trinh Man. The three of them went to a small restaurant nearby. There was no lavish celebration. Just three women. Sit around a home dinner table. Nip. Trinh Man just drank two glasses. Has begun to wander endlessly.

"Nhuoc Van."

"You know what?"

"Two years ago."

"When you left."

"How worried am I?"

"Your phone is turned off."

"For three days."

"I can't contact you."

"I almost called the police."

On Nhuoc Van smiled slightly.

"Don't apologize."

Trinh Man raised his glass.

"It's good that you're alive."

"Already the best apology."

"Dear you."

"Thank you for surviving."

"And to be so beautiful alive."