When an artist dies, the art that never was is often mourned with as much grief as—if not more grief than—the individual themself. The individual, after all, was flesh and blood. It’s the art that’s immortal.” Esme Wang
Sometimes we don’t know what someone means to us until they’re gone. Filiberto Ayala had more talent in his little finger than I will ever have in my whole body. He also had more heart.
Fili died this week of brain cancer. I never did find out what kind. Coming from a poor, uneducated family, it probably didn’t make any difference to them. Having lost my youngest brother to a glioblastoma, it mattered to me.
I had plans to visit him again on Monday. He died that morning before I could get there. When I went to pay my respects, he was laid out in a coffin in the living room with family and friends sitting outside. There was going to be an all night vigil and cremation the following day. I wish I could have stayed. I think it would have been awkward. At least that’s what I tell myself.
Fili’s Facebook page was flooded with photos, accolades, and stories. He was loved by many, an amazing, artist, son, father and friend. Go with God dear Filiberto.
DOS TORTAS
the adventures of dos tortas 
Condolences on the loss of your amigo
Michael
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you Michael. You would have liked him. We body painted together several times. He truly was a master.
LikeLike
Home in Bacalar now?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes. Leave tomorrow.
LikeLike
So very sorry.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you. His little girl lost a special daddy.
LikeLiked by 1 person
What talent he had. So sad.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Everyone who knew him loved him. Just a really lovely man.
LikeLike