Tio Rogelio

Rogelio was a quiet man as I recall. Stoic and perhaps shrouded by the exuberance of Rafaela, his lifelong partner and fellow artist. I remember him clearly, pencil moustache, thin combed back hair, button down shirt neatly tucked into his trousers, and leather loafers. His hands were strong from years of craftsmanship. I wonder what stories he had in his head for he wasn’t a talkative one. But he was there through it all. Rafaela’s life is one of wonder and surprise, a life full of spirits and spirituality, and visions, and dreams, and controversy. The masses flock to her garden to see the one touched by angels, to have their fortune’s forecast, to be in the presence of someone admired. Her sense of humour is full of irony -her work holding on to tradition and post colonial life in a way that I’ve yet to understand. And Rogelio? There he is in the back, quietly working on the aviary, or a carving, or a fiddle. Always there.

Que en paz descanse.