Behind the design

We were always told never to judge a book by its cover. Ignore that advice when you look at the cover design for my debut memoir, Golden Scars. I have a hard time taking my eyes off it ... but I'm biased!

Christa Varley designed the cover and the illustrations at the beginning of each chapter. In this article, I'd like to take you behind the design and share some of the symbolism and "happy accidents" that occurred during the design process.

Color palette

The colors we chose for the book cover were meant to complement the brand colors for my PR and communications consultancy, Clarion Communications. Since a cornerstone of my approach is clarity of message, I sought a color that evoked clearness and transparency. I chose sea glass or a light turquoise/blue.

The two main colors in the cover design are dark teal and gold. Happy accident #1: I immediately gravitated to the teal color as teal is the color designated for ovarian cancer awareness. In the book, I not only share my journey with breast cancer but also my experience supporting my mom as she battled ovarian cancer.

Female form

At the center of the design is a sculpture of a female body. As Christa, Amanda Filippelli, my book coach and editor, and I were brainstorming ideas for the cover, I shared a picture of a sculpture that holds a special place in my heart. The sculpture, Expansion, by Paige Bradley, depicts a woman seated in a lotus position. There are cracks on her torso and her arms. The sculpture is lit from the inside allowing light to flood through the cracks.

Kintsugi

The sculpture I mentioned above reminds me of kintsugi, the Japanese art of repairing broken objects with gold. Christa added a kintsugi-looking design to the female form.

I first learned about kintsugi a few years after I was widowed. The art form carries a profound symbolism. At its core, kintsugi celebrates imperfection. In a world often driven by ideals of perfection and flawlessness, this art form reminds us that brokenness is an integral part of the human experience. It's a reflection of how we, too, can endure challenges, setbacks, and hardships, and emerge stronger and more beautiful for having faced them. The use of gold to mend the cracks highlights the idea that our scars, both physical and emotional, can be transformed into something precious and valuable.

Feathers

When I first looked at the cover design, I asked Christa about the significance of the feathers. Some people believe that seeing a feather can be a sign from a loved one who has died. While I love that symbolism, the feathers have a stronger meaning for me.

Happy accident #2: My late husband, Steve Barry, was a waterfowl biologist for the Ohio Division of Wildlife. When we met, he was working with a team from the Cleveland Zoo to reintroduce trumpeter swans to Ohio. I love seeing these beautiful birds flying near Lake Erie. They remind me of the love and passion Steve had for his work.

I love the rich colors and symbolism conveyed through the beautiful design on the cover of my book Golden Scars.

Beauty in the “broken” areas of our life

Recently, I had the opportunity to give a reflection at the start of the Rotary Club of Toledo meeting. I chose to talk about kintsugi, the Japanese art of repairing objects with gold or other precious metals. The concept of mending a broken object with gold first resonated with me as I was grieving the death of my husband Steve. I was enamored by its symbolism of tragedy and moving forward in life.

Below is an excerpt of the reflection I shared with the men and women of the Rotary Club of Toledo:

The beauty and philosophy behind kintsugi impart powerful life lessons.

At its core, kintsugi celebrates imperfection. In a world often driven by ideals of flawlessness, this art form reminds us that brokenness is an integral part of the human experience. It's a reflection of how we, too, can endure challenges, setbacks, and hardships, and emerge stronger and more beautiful for having faced them. The use of gold to mend the cracks highlights the idea that our scars, both physical and emotional, can be transformed into something precious.

We often strive to conceal our vulnerabilities, fearing judgment or rejection. Kintsugi, however, encourages us to embrace our vulnerabilities and show up as our authentic selves. The repaired pottery becomes even more captivating than before, each fracture telling a story of resilience and transformation. This notion encourages us to be honest about our struggles and open to the healing process, acknowledging that our personal growth comes from confronting and transcending adversity.

Kintsugi also serves as a metaphor for relationships. Just as pottery can be shattered, so can connections between people. Yet, the process of repairing these bonds can lead to something even stronger and more meaningful. By recognizing that relationships can withstand conflict and the test of time, we gain a deeper appreciation for the beauty that emerges when we work to mend what's been broken.

In a fast-paced world where instant gratification often takes precedence, kintsugi offers a counterpoint by reminding us of the value of patience and deliberate care. The meticulous process of repairing pottery in this way requires time, precision, and a steady hand. Similarly, the healing and growth we seek in ourselves, and our relationships cannot be rushed. True transformation takes time, dedication, and a willingness to invest ourselves fully.

As I’ve worked through the many fractures that have shaped me – the loss of my husband, raising young children on my own for several years, job changes, and a battle with cancer – I often pictured those experiences as cracks. As I worked to heal, the cracks have been repaired with gold. It’s important to remember that you can turn even the most broken aspects into something uniquely beautiful.