My Bloody Grandfather

Men who were within my everyday view out in the real world influenced me from a very early age. I was 17 months old when my mother's father, my maternal grandfather, was in his mid-forties. I was too young to form any memories of him. I don’t believe anyone can process and retain memories when they are so young.

In my imagination, I envision him strictly in black-and-white. Half his face is obscured in darkness. He’s in vague Western wear as he leans against his mid-century car. That man made front-page news in the slow little town where I was born. He murdered his wife–my mother's mother–who was only in her forties. He used a shotgun to kill her at their kitchen table. Then he used the weapon to blow his brains out.

Listen to the voice of artist Madeira Desouza explain what happened…

Discover more about this topic: How a family tragedy influenced a lifetime of art.