Ice Merchants
Every day, a father and his son leap from their vertiginous, cliff-attached home, a cold dwelling perched on the edge, using a parachute to reach the ground and the distant village where they sell the ice they produce daily.
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carloenrico
**Grief comes in all hues of reds and oranges.** The striking animation is enough to grasp my feeble attention - enough to distract me and hit me hard in the stomach. When we lose someone, there are things that attach that we lose too. The vibrancy. The color. However, the things that last lasts and the effect it has persists. The panning to the pile of hats is enough to tell the entire story. How the hats would be comprised of reds and yellows in the bottom, of reds yellows and oranges in the middle, and only reds and oranges at the top. **In our lives, colors come and go.** And when we fall, the foundations, the memories, and the essence that those who've left had left for us will save us in times we feel most alone.
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