Masters of Time

Ok, so my hands shake. Big deal. They have done so all my life. Strangely, it seems to be an inconsistent anomaly. Often when I am in an emotionally intense situation, they shake. But if it is mandatory that they not shake, they don’t. Two examples. Back in the days as a theater student when I had to do my makeup and the choice was either stop shaking or poke my eye out, the hand would stop shaking. More recently when creating some of the drawings I share with you, I often back myself into a corner by drawing very detailed designs that must eventually be colored in. The choice in that situation is to either stop shaking or smear color all over the image. There, too, the hands usually stop shaking - but not permanently. I’m good for a couple of hours and then a suspicious jiggle tries to creep in, and I have to stop drawing at least for a similar couple of hours. I have tried to “tough it out” a couple of times, and end up trying to hide errors that, to my mind anyhow, immediately draw the eye to that, usually tiny, part of the image. But I did come to believe in the notion that if I paid attention and rationed my efforts and concentration, I could calm my shaking hands in the service of any task.

Well, tonight that bit of arrogance got kicked to the curb. Curiosity Stream again. This time the series was called “Masters of Time: Independent Watchmakers.” The title is somewhat self-explanatory, the series does feature the works of several independent watchmakers, but that doesn’t prepare one for the intricacies, the detail, the artistry involved. First, least there be any mistaken notion, all of the watches created by these artists are handmade - hand tools shaping metal, wood, wire, etc.  And all the watches have some type of tourbillon in them.  And what, you might well ask - as did I eventually, after pretending I knew what the heck they were talking about, - the heck is a tourbillon?  Glad you asked.  A tourbillon is a little gizmo you put into a watch to counter the affect of Earth's gravity on the isochronal properties of the balance wheel and spring. Right, sure. That means - various sources tell me - that the balance wheel and the spring stay in sync. So these watchmakers and their watches are addressing chronological concerns and variables I have never heard of, let alone thought about. Again for example, one watchmaker addressed these and other concerns, after which the artist then carefully covered the face of the watch with black glass - you could see nothing. The idea, according to the watchmaker, who tuned the, now invisible, internal elements of his watch by holding them against the body of a violin, was to not distract you with looking at the hands of the watch, hence freeing you to concentrate on the far more important task of simply listening to the passage of time. Accurate quote, as God is my witness.

But that was not what convinced me that the very least of the tasks performed by these incredibly skilled artists was far beyond the abilities of my poor shaking hands. It was, in large part, the fact that their measurements and tolerances were routinely measured in tiny fractions of millimeters, and if you missed the mark with your tiny little tools, minuscule screwdrivers, wrenches, etc., you simply scrapped that piece - sometimes a large part of the watch - and started over. Arrrrgh! But finally one of them copped to what was really going on: “I am trying to create the smallest mechanism that can be built by human hands.”

Oh. Now I get it. And I realize that I will never get it.