Memory starts off as white. Bare, naked, and solitary. It is but a sole blank canvas, awaiting for its first stroke of color. As time passes, the corners get filled with different shades. We allow people to enter our lives and they bring in their own blot of color. Each person marking us with their own personal hue. There is an explosion— magenta, yellow, orange, blue. We fill our memories with moments and experiences, with love and hate, with friends and strangers, with enemies and lovers. Their faces are splattered over each piece of time and space. There is no way to erase them from memory. It is a masterpiece that is terrifyingly and wonderfully beautiful.
