This November was marked by the departure of our friend and great artist Jaider Esbell. On “the day of the dead” our friend left his body as a freedom act or, as his indigenous relatives say, he got enchanted.

As the media has put it, Jaider was on a meteoric rise and reaching a dimension of recognition unprecedented for any brazilian indigenous artist of all times. In addition to being the spearhead of the 34th Bienal de São Paulo, a few of his main works were purchased by the Center Pompidou and many other pieces acquired by other important art collections this year. Many mysteries and questions surround his departure, but this type of consideration must be investigated by other vehicles and another type of professional. As an artist and researcher myself, I will refrain from making a free translation of the text written by Jaider in 2013 and which gives an account of the moment when he would leave this dimension of life - which, sooner than we had hoped, arrived.

For the day of my departure

“This afternoon everyone should drink pajuaru, the drink of my life, and thus raise their souls so that we are in unison.

When this body is there, solemnly rested, when my head is at last still, I want it to be covered with a fine degradable cloth. On top of that cloth, I want lots of dry leaves, picked from large native trees. On the day of my departure, I don't want them to spend all the pain in the world on their desire for my return. My time has come, which has always been awaited. I want your hearts, now cold, to feel the burning of the flames of life, to heat so much until awakening your eyes to all the beauty that still exists. I want this pain of death to be transformed, often, into a source of life, that it be like a spring, or like the waters of the first rains on the scorched ground, which is slowly soaking, moving the grains of sand and, when they soak, awaken the seeds of the past sleep to stop being like that to be lives and go out in search of the sun.

At this moment, my soul must be seeing everything from above, just as I always dreamed, absolutely free without needing protection, foundation or any material connection. Below, just the cold, comforting emptiness of infinity. I will certainly be happy.

I will accompany the birds, sometimes on their crusades. I will be part of the arrow that I have often observed from below, where everyone, at one time, must take the lead and go forward, breaking the air. Like a child for a toy, an ant for a candy, a moth for a light, I will always be following the object of my desire, which I imagine is insatiable and never loses its flavor, or a light that will never go out. I want to be like this, I miss seeing you all. I ask, my people, a little more strength. I ask this favor one more time. I want the women of my family, my eternal women, to go out in the fields to pick flowers. I ask you to accompany these women, all the others who find in me at least a hint of dignity, those who are with me and who consider this soul captive before. I want you to leave early, grab your baskets and fill them with assorted flowers. May virgin flowers be picked, still dew, the most beautiful and fragrant. I want them to see the beauties of our plowed fields, to tread the earth, to leave their tracks registered in these fields swept by the wind. These who will never be erased from the memory of those who know them. Wrongful, wrongly interpreted as bad land, that its grass is of no use, that nothing survives there. Lazy, as they say of the native who craves nothing more than food and the hammock.

I want the men, my brothers, my father and friends, for whom I would do it without measures, to go out in search of mixiri trunks. I want you to bring firewood for an entire night of fire. The fire must be bright. On that day, it must be windy and the sparks of the great fire will rise to heaven. I ask you to watch with me one more sunset and, when it descends, see the first stars shine excitedly, the scattered clouds buttery. I want to go to orange, in the eternal imminence of the beginning of a new day or a new night. I want to lie down, at this time, in the blush of the twilight. I want the birds to still see me when they are returning to their homes. So let me go. Put the mother blanket over my body and give me away so that I can be among you again in other ways. From here, I'll leave soon to be in other corners of this world. I will split, disintegrate into atomic particles that one day will still meet and be part of it again as they always will be. Part of me goes to sea and, finally, I'm going to dive with the shoals, accompany them on their routes, travel through their territory. I can go to the top of the Earth and freeze in a winter sleep, hoping to feel the heat of the sun again. I will now be starting another crusade for this old world. My soul will no longer have a place in this infinite universe and may be recycled in another body. I ask you to slowly play the land so as not to destroy the flowers, which now accompany me on this trip. I want to see my family in one body, in one desire, dreaming the same dream. I want them to remember me in my best days, when they saw my very rare and sincere smile, when they felt up close the caress of my heart, which I always believed to exist. I am a child again, in fact, I have always been one of them and always will be. I want my body to feed the children of this great tree that I am already part of, for now. The fire should be hot and their tired bodies will be lit up. I want you to look at the laboredas and follow the sparks until they merge with the stars in the sky. From there, I see the fire, a ball of light in the middle of the darkness, and in the sky, I light my star never to go out."

August Afternoons, September Mornings, October Nights, April 2013, Jaider Esbell