She would put on a mask and wear it for months. With each new mask came a new life. A new perspective other than her own. And once the mask ran its course, she would hang it up in a clean clear case for the world to see. A story behind each mask, only to be replaced by another shortly after. But what is beyond the mask? Who is the life behind the paint? She once knew but has become trapped underneath the mountain of faces. How could something that was once so beautiful become so hideous? ‘Twas not the action itself but what she had made it to be.