I was made aware from early in life of the disappearance of a little girl, my aunt, who died at age eleven She became an image in my mind that is there to this day. The image includes phrases, anecdotes, her little coffin in a pantheon covered with wilted cut flowers, her little fur coat that never fit me well, her smiles, her gesture and her eyes staring at me from photographs. Her name is my name. I never knew her but I think I knew her, an image etched in my mind, like what happens with historical characters, movie stars or popular idols like Princess Di. People think they know them and they become a part of their lives. As on a TV screen left unattended in the corner of a dark room images circulate in my mind. Some keep returning, they recall a touch, they stir emotions, they seem to have a voice of their own. They become a frontal presence that needs to be rescued from the unpredictable flow of appearance and disappearance.