Can There Be Restoration without Erasure?

When I was 13 years old, I was in a fire. I had second and third- degree burns all over my face, arms, and chest. I was wrapped in gauze and went to the doctor daily to have my wounds redressed and evaluated. Over time, the burns healed, and many faded out of view—though a few of the more severe ones remain, markers of an event that I often think of as a moment in time when I first really faced that sometimes damage cannot be undone. My efforts to contain the fire and put it out may have prevented its spread, but the damage that occurred to certain parts of the house could not be reversed or restored. Rather, those parts were removed and replaced with objects that were shiny and new, and that held no memory or visible mark of the fire. My skin, on the other hand, bears faded marks that most often are seen as freckles. In this way, the damage is not immediately visible to others. They may not be looking close enough to notice; they may assume them to be sun damage, or they may be deceived if I were to wear makeup to cover them. However, when I go out in the sun, a different story emerges: marks that are jagged,—more like splotches—marks that tell the story of an event that I might allow to be coded as a bad sunburn or age or excess sunbathing become clear burn marks and indicators of a fairly serious fire. In a different light, what might appear sufficiently healed is revealed only to be sufficiently hidden.

Before becoming a psychologist, I was pursuing a PhD in English. In addition to critical theory, I had an interest in archival material, which in some part reflected a prior degree in Classics and my fascination with the many technologies that have allowed something that was thought to be lost to be revealed. An example of what I mean is The Archimedes Palimpsest project, led by the conservation team at The Walters Art Gallery. This project involves using multispectral imaging to take parchment pages that appear blank to the naked eye and, through advanced imaging