Witness marks
History in the scars
Pristine - scratchless and spotless - the gleaming brilliance of an unscathed surface. It can be a source of pride and even obsession. But new never lasts. Inevitably accidents happen, surfaces mar. The first few are always painful as a thing begins to no longer shine like it once did.
But over time, as scars accumulate more and more, something intriguing takes place. An object goes from used and damaged to well-worn and beloved. Instead of aged and abused, wear takes on a new meaning - of strength and perseverance.
These are witness marks.
The term "witness mark" has many meanings. Some usage refers to deliberate lines or scratches showing placement or alignment. In machining, for example, parts often have indicators denoting where two or more must fit together. Witness mark is also used in surveying and trail finding. Poles, stakes, notches in trees, and rock cairns indicate property lines and paths.
Witness mark also means the look and feel of handmade rather than mass manufactured objects. Handcrafted furniture shows scars from the craftsman that made it. Clay vessels with a few fingerprints by accident (or intention) tell the potter's story. And a hand-forged tool, not straight and symmetrical like its machine-made counterparts, is a badge of honor rather than a flaw.
By the very nature of these imperfections, witness marks become a maker's unique signature.
At its most meaningful, then, "witness mark" conveys all the incidental damage to objects we make - and use. The older the thing and the more use it receives, the more these witness marks accumulate. And all tell a story.
A well-worn pocket knife, perhaps with the tip broken off. A treasured mug with a chip in it. A favorite chair, stained and unsightly but a cherished possession nonetheless. The witness marks do not detract from these things; they make them what they are.
Last summer, I made a leather top for my workbench. It was a nice piece of heavy hide that I cut to fit the bench's surface. I chose leather, knowing that it would wear well and handsomely - I looked forward to marring it up. And so I have done.
The leather has gathered an impressive array of dents, stains, and blemishes in less than a year. Some I remember doing, and others have almost miraculously appeared out of nowhere. But each and all make the leather more beautiful. Here, these witness marks tell an ever-evolving tale of my creative history in the shop.
But the leather, even when new, was not perfect. I inspected it and found a few scars incurred while it was part of a living, breathing being. Seeing these made me pause and reflect on this life. More than simply a material shaped and formed, these scars represent the reality of life and death in that leather.
Now and again, I look at my own hands and see the scars. Like those on the hide - wounds left by mishaps and, in my case, many a youthful indiscretion. Injuries that have healed except for the witness marks that remain - and remind.
A puncture in my palm, now long mended except for the lingering numbness in my thumb. And an inch-long raised scar on my middle finger, which tends to crack and bleed when my hands are dry. Both witnesses to mistakes made - but also of a life lived. These and more litter the well-used vessel of my existence. Witness marks on me, to me - of me.
Last night I put my son to bed and caressed his back to help him fall asleep. I noted how new and pristine his skin felt, the softness of which my own hasn't been in years. But at the tender age of nine, he's already accumulated his share of witness marks. A gouge in his stomach earned after an errant bicycle mishap. And a few dimple scars on his elbow from pins inserted for a broken arm. I suspect these are yet the beginning; he tends to live life at full speed, much like I did.
I only hope the best for him, of course. And I wish him well with prayers that whatever accidents unfold, he recovers stronger. Left with only the reminder that, with age, we weather and scar, but we can be better for it. And more beautiful too, if we can accept change and what may come. Accept life not despite the witness marks, but because of them.
Until next time.
JRC
We fine that some of these call witness marks are reminder of growing and learning how we became what we are and who we are.