Melo Ludwig - Study, 2016
Melo Ludwig - Study, 2016
The Color of Memory, 2016
The Color of Memory, 2016

In my heart I carry a weighted box. I don't think about it daily, but it's there, subtle and constant.

When I dream, the ache is a different kind of pain. It's more real, harsher; it throbs like a freshly cut wound and I wake up in tears. Thirteen years, and it still hurts. Like a memory from yesterday, I live and relive it, I am displaced every time I come to. Remembrance is the only way I know how to mourn.

If you were to be born again, in this lifetime, I want to meet you once more.

The Color of Memory II, 2016
The Color of Memory II, 2016

In my heart I carry a weighted box. I don't think about it daily, but it's there, subtle and constant.

When I dream, the ache is a different kind of pain. It's more real, harsher; it throbs like a freshly cut wound and I wake up in tears. Thirteen years, and it still hurts. Like a memory from yesterday, I live and relive it, I am displaced every time I come to. Remembrance is the only way I know how to mourn.

If you were to be born again, in this lifetime, I want to meet you once more.

Melo Ludwig - Study, 2016
The Color of Memory, 2016
The Color of Memory II, 2016
Melo Ludwig - Study, 2016
The Color of Memory, 2016

In my heart I carry a weighted box. I don't think about it daily, but it's there, subtle and constant.

When I dream, the ache is a different kind of pain. It's more real, harsher; it throbs like a freshly cut wound and I wake up in tears. Thirteen years, and it still hurts. Like a memory from yesterday, I live and relive it, I am displaced every time I come to. Remembrance is the only way I know how to mourn.

If you were to be born again, in this lifetime, I want to meet you once more.

The Color of Memory II, 2016

In my heart I carry a weighted box. I don't think about it daily, but it's there, subtle and constant.

When I dream, the ache is a different kind of pain. It's more real, harsher; it throbs like a freshly cut wound and I wake up in tears. Thirteen years, and it still hurts. Like a memory from yesterday, I live and relive it, I am displaced every time I come to. Remembrance is the only way I know how to mourn.

If you were to be born again, in this lifetime, I want to meet you once more.

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