On the eve of her 22nd birthday, Barbara Ferris takes inventory of her life and finds it wanting. A sculptor who has spent years modeling for others, she has little to show for her own ambitions but a string of disappointing love affairs and a growing sense that she has wasted something irreplaceable. Then she meets Blizzard, a legless beggar whose striking face has been sculpted by hardship into something raw and unforgettable. To the world, he is a curiosity, a broken man reduced to spectacle. But Barbara sees in him the face of a masterpiece, and in his presence, something she hasn't felt in years: the possibility of real creation. What begins as artistic obsession becomes something far more dangerous, pulling her between her hunger for significance and her fear of genuine connection. This is a novel about what it costs to make art, and what it costs to let another person see you.
