I
became acquainted with “Seu” Fernando in June
2008, in Ilha do Ferro, Alagoas backclands, when he
was, as he then said: “79 years and seven
months”.
He died some months after. Very agile and good-humored, he
answered jokingly when I asked his name: “I walk
about this way: Rodrigues dos Santos.” (This is
a pun on his first name Fern-ando.) Besides being a sculptor,
he was also a storyteller and poet.
His writings on his chairs, verses on love and descriptions
of facts happened on his Island, acquired a dimension of fantastic
realism. We echo the deserved homage he has been receiving.
Edna Matosinho de Pontes |