Stell Simonton, pages 486-490

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My life with my sister is something I recall as if from a long distance. It's almost like a dream world — yellowed photographs, memories as fragile as worn pieces of paper.

 

There's also the distance that her profound impairment creates. She suffered seizures at 18 months that left her severely mentally retarded.

 

In this work, for the first time, I used poetry to recall our lives as children before she was institutionalized and also our lives now. For me, the poetry and photos are a like a visit to a time and place that has a strange familiarity — it both exists and it doesn't exist — and how can that be?