Luma, done for a friend who died during the PTSD tapes, the last of the men I knew with AIDS, repeats Cassandra, only with wings. I was in a program for artists who were impacted by 9/11 by then. Some of them lost everything, home, studio, art, equipment.  They were, a year and a half later, still paralyzed by their losses and unable to participate, or benefit, from the group. The rest of us, the witnesses, organized an exhibit and tried bring them along. Holding us back, the show didn't happen, they resented us for wanting to move on. A painful failure; although I sold a painting to a member who had had a gallery that was destroyed, he moved back to South America soon after the group ended.