The conservator, making restoration of all that had been scraped away, binding soft red poliment with rabbit skin glue: this pillow of clay upon which the Mother of God will again rest. The image, gouged down to bare parchment years after its making, an act of literal defacing, an iconoclasm. Unhallowed. The Mother’s face will be restored, but first—light. Slow gentle work, mounding the bole then sanding it, smoothing it. Later, a full warm breath from this living woman revives the surface so it can embrace a skin of light: the golden circle remade, unbroken.