Elías García Martínez, Ecce Homo, c. 1930;
Restoration attempt by Cecilia Giménez, 2012
Sanctuary of Mercy Church, Borja, Zaragoza, Spain
Sometimes you try something out and it doesn’t work.
Sometimes you think you can help, but instead
you make Jesus into a monster, mouth
a sideways smudge and the eyes that once gazed
heavenward staring back at you, panicked.
Get me out of here, the eyes now say.
Cecilia was ashamed, then famous.
She softened the crown of thorns
to a furry hat. His nose went flat.
She robed him in a crimson mushroom-cap.
Some said she turned the Son of God
simian. Said she did it in secret, said they’d sue,
neither of which was true. The amateur
art restorer proclaimed her innocence,
wept, stopped eating for a while.
Then in the little town of Borja
tourism increased tenfold. A miracle, some said,
and began to celebrate her day
of transfiguration. Sometimes you wait
for a savior. Other times
you DIY it and make a different kind
of masterpiece. All hail Cecilia, whose name
means blind. Earnest striver who made it
new. Careful volunteer agent of chaos.
Laughing, we look into her man’s potato face
with love. We too, have the best intentions.