Faces fascinate and enchain, striking  across time, from some nether  space, dead and gone, but half alive.

Who are you, angel? Were you happy or sad? When did you live? We only know that you came before, your remains, your image now sold in a thrift shop for a dollar or maybe 75 cents if the merchandise needs to move.

©C Kirkpatrick

©C Kirkpatrick

©C Kirkpatrick

©C Kirkpatrick