When I was little boy , 9 years, i did not get along well with my father, Evaristo,my life in this time was run away from him and hide my drawings, he always tore my drawings and say “It’s no future for anyone”, or wanted to see, It’s no use arguing with him.He was a learned man sought his own knowledge…he often walk in front of our house with a third on the right hand,and sometimes, i watched him from behind the window of our house, talking to myself walking in slow circles near the courtyard of church . One day I asked him : “Can I go with you Sir?” _ Of course! he answered. And there I realized ,the faith of my Father and he prayed for everyone who loved in your in life, my mother, my brother and my sisters .. even for me.I have this habit of it even today, I talk to God as those who have in the road of life an awesome travel companion.One day, my two grannies came to live with us and it was like if God sent the two best storytellers in the world to there…Those two ladies were incredible in my life, and from there i began to shape my A Knight’s heart.The rooms of the my two grannies were neighbors of wall, on the left was my grandaunt “Maria dos Anjos, Mary of the Angels” or Aunt Duzinha,she always started the stories that way “My son pays close attention, it’s all a lie, but you might learn something!”(my grannies always explain the moral in your histories)and Grandma, who was the Mother of my Father’s, and her name was Agueda or “Mãezinhinha”’She was blind and into her room i knock in the portal of the door and I say : “Your blessing Grandma? Can I come in? “She smiled and answered,” God bless you ‘and she asked me to sit beside her and for to leave her crazy, she started their stories almost like Aunt Duzinha …”My Grandson pays much attention, it’s all true” You know that in my land there was a huge DRAGON …(she talks too loud for Aunt Duzinha hear in your room
) and soon heard “ Liar lady !!! you Teaching the boy to lie?” I loved it. Both taught me to admire and love women and I should always be a good man.I could finally have my drawings, where Aunt Duzina hid, even i , dont want it back (She kept the drawings underneath of your chamberpot ) Grandma,kept the drawings underneath her mattress, what about the warning not to withdraw from there to my Father he respected . It was a few years I had lost my sister Miriam and my Father was no longer the same, had become so sad that even made ??me want to bother him for i receive one punishment for him to recover.With the pain started smoking again, but fortunately he dropped … Then I adopted the name Ancerg,I had won the contest Recife new artists (Dont ask me the date because I have forgotten)But it was an eclipse of the moon, next to my lovely friend Ana Diniz, I realized the name.I preserve values ??in my heart, I had friends who were over 60 years even when I was a boy,because I realized that, if you either matured rapidly or you have experiences,
read biographies or hear someone older with attention.In English “Ancient” means “Old” ( Having the qualities associated with age, wisdom…) and I created a variation of the name “Ancerg”. My father did not understand when. I won my first interview in the newspaper comparing my paint job to real playing game RPG,because I create a story for every painting. I was already bigger when my Father in reason of cigarette got sick , had cancer.My dad did not care about me anymore or with himself … but God has his ways of doing his stuff.I came home one day when he was in the room and seemed to have had a heart attack, My mother prayed beside him and i not thought, i grabbed him in bed and i put on the wall and i hit with full force on his chest “Do not die father … we don’t make amends yet Dad!!!” and this moment his pupil dilates , and he breathe fully , and a tear fell from his face … he open the eyes and say …”My son ….” and there we hugged, and we make amends in this instant , was the third time in my life that he had embraced me , nothing made ??me happier,than all comfort in this tightening.Then months later he got worse, and he was admitted to the hospital, and i stood there, and alternated with my family, for watch him.In this time I made drawings of him lying there in bed to spend time. he had lucid moments and one of those, he asked for slightly raise the headboardwas a gear, and asked to see my drawing ..I was ashamed in this moment … he insisted and i showed him and he said : “My son… forgive me, for I never told you before ….” What Dad? “ You are an artist my son, is beautiful …I could not speak so moved and he said — come here my son on side your Old Man… What’s your name … in your paintings? and I said … “Evaristo, Father!” _ No. .. is Ancerg , “ The Ancient “ , surprise and tears came to my face … (in Brazilian way sounds for me like the word “Antique”) You knew Sir ? Yes my son, his Father also read newspapers, especially when talking about my son, but because you chose that name? Because Sir … has taught me to be a worthy man and wanted … wanted … to be like you Sir …” Like me? “ Yes Dad … Being a Good Man. He smiled with that old smile as if he had seen at that moment that everything was worth it.And i Lie in bed there beside him carefully , in the morning and the nurse went crazy to see us there.He hated her… but he woke up with a smile from ear to ear. And she told me to leave, my father looked at me and smiled,I asked your blessing, and answered and before passing through the door I heard his comment , “You see these drawings there? are of my son! he is an True Artist !Months later he is gone … and I had no desire for anything or craved, until I found inside one drawer with a role blurred with coffee with his handwriting “Ancerg-Ancient-Antique.” From then on I was the man I am today José Evaristo de Ancerg. About My Brand in my Paintings “Cordilheira do Infinito” I tale next time …
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