Enslaved woman, branded a runaway, freed after the war—her story is our story. Plantation owner, letter writer, died during the war—his story is our story. As this story unfolded, it became intensely personal. The woman reenactor wove a tale of her attempt at freedom, her punishment, her resignation to a life without the choices that I take for granted. The letter was written by a historic figure, a SC plantation owner, my great-great-grandfather, and a man who was able to make choices that ruled and often ruined the lives of others and led to his early death. Over my years as a photographer, I’ve been intrigued by the concept of learning what else the subject has to say. Usually I have uncovered the voice of the subject by spending time working with the image. Seeking the kinesthetic in my art-making, the physical touch of the artist, I began encaustic work with my images and adding elements as the story unfolds. Going beyond story-telling, I find deeper levels of story-making.