d.aMa

I saw this picture today by accident on someone’s Facebook wall and it reminded me of a story I could never forget but somehow let it fade during my years away from Brazil.

I saw and heard this great man, grandpa Edison (pic: center low), a soccer player during his youth, incredible artist throughout his life and a politician and founder of great things. I grew up surrounded by his murals, grandma’s painted portraits and writings in a house full of intricate objects that I remember, as a child, made me so happy. There was something about him that made me a bit scared of life, a lot respectful and completely in love. He was such a great man. I don’t mean someone who is merely considered to be a great man, but a man who truly is. 

His last piece of work before he died was an sculpture of himself standing like he is in this exact photo (above) during his years as a soccer player. I heard he was an amazing player. But all I knew was that he was an amazing artist.

The sculpture was never finished because he died before he could. I was 15 then and I remember his words to me that I was the one now carrying this job, to finish the sculpture as he should have.  

I just now remember this with incredible clarity. 

I never touched that sculpture because I could’t barely look at it. But again, I was only 15 and devastated that I had lost a great man.

But it’s 9 years past and I smile because I have a very important job to finish when I go back. 

They say there’s nothing more difficult than to define ‘longing’ in words. My grandpa defined by sculpting it.