Staring in the mirror, the past attempts to resurface. It is blocked, frayed, and fragmented. The more he probes, the worse the pain becomes. He wants to remember, he HAS to remember.
🔆 And, of course, the obligatory portrait shots.
An unfamiliar place, a past locked away. Rememberance begets pain, and pristine humility is restored. A whisper, a word, a name. Lucian.
