The doctors sent Barry home to die. They told him that he
had about a week left. His friends and later his family gathered
at his bedside for those final moments of clarity and connection.
I spent six very intense days with him. On the evening of the
sixth day I left, telling him that I loved him and wishing him
a goodnight.
That night, at my home, I was awakened by a voice in my bedroom.
After a while I recognized it as Barry's. He was laughing and
giving me the feeling that he was doing well. I looked at my clock--3:00am,
so I decided to go back to sleep. At 6:00am my telephone rang.
It was Paul, who told me "Barry died last night, I was right here
with him." I asked if he remembered what time he died. Paul replied,
"3:00am."
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Sharon Sisken
"Another (Un)Explained Occurrence" 1995.
x-rays, mirror, wood, beeswax, acrylic,
glass, hair, fingernails, teeth |
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Nancer LeMoins
"What Do You See?" 1996
mixed media |
We invite you to collaborate with us.
Please share your thoughts and feelings in
remembrance.

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I created this piece to honor and remember the young man in
the portrait, David. It felt as though he fought and fought to
live, even when his body had pretty much given up. His soul seemed
to know that there was something he needed to work out before
dying, and the last few weeks of his life were especially difficult.
When he finally let go and died it was sort of hard to understand
exactly where he was. The photograph in this piece was taken twenty
minutes after David died. I just kept looking at him, trying to
see him here, and I knew finally that he wasn't a part of that
body any longer. I wanted to show that he had gone into the light--
that his soul was still very much alive. I ask the question "what
do you see when you look at me?" to make viewers think about how
they see death, especially the passing of someone so young and
so battle-weary. |
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