Frida Kahlo (placeholder)

She is so tough and determined and didn’t let anything stop her from being her own person in her own way. So many women seek a man and once they get him they “we” their individuality to death.

Despite falling hopelessly in love with the “wrong” kind of guy, Frida still was herself and a force to be reckoned with.

There’s a Frida Kahlo art exhibit starting to go around the states this autumn. Apparently it will be starting at the Walker Art center. I’m looking forward to it. I guess it’s a pretty big thing being that owners of her work are particularly unwilling to give them up for shows.

I love her and everything I’ve learned about her because she was a very talented artist who overcame a great deal of adversity and didn’t care what the hell people thought. She was an independant and passionate woman who did what she wanted regardless of what the status quo was.

That, and the fact that I bear a slight physical resemblance to her :-P

She’s one of the most prominent and talanted artists of the last century although not many people know her.

Biography

When I lunched with Frida
I drank her under the table.
We’d ordered a cheap Sangria,
purple and oily. I drank for both of us.
She had chosen a café in San Angel
with yellow walls and trumpet vines
and I had selected a day from the decade
that separated us,
but these were only small details.

Her leg hurt, but she barely mentioned it,
just cussed it once and moved on.
New York still had her pissed off.
Diego was being difficult and Nickolas
was in her head like a hive
that throbbed with stings and honey .
I hardly ate, devoted as I was to my glass.
I fed my tortillas to the nattering doves
that brushed our skirts and Frida
lit cigarette after cigarette.

She told me she was done with marriage.
It was too complicated a diversion.
I knew she would lose a leg, not Diego,
but I revealed nothing. It was obscene
to consider that I would outlive her.
Finally she took my hands, her rings
heavy, her eyes shadowed with knowledge.
“I paint my own reality”, she said,
“you must do the same.” The sun drifted
to the west. The air was still
and Frida looked me in the eye
once more before I closed the page.

Because she was creative her whole life and did not let physical or emotional pain stop her from painting. Unlike so many people I know who have all kinds of excuses for not creating.

I wish I knew you.

Did you come back as Jamie.

If you did that irish-chicana girl resembles you in more ways that I could ever imagine in a re-incarnation…

I miss you, and I don’t even know you.

Her gift in art, endurance, perseverance and spirit inspires me enormously

I admire her passion. Her ability to love recklessly, her talent, her strenghth, her bold colors, her ability to express her pain through art and captivate the world, the way she embraced her coulture, her life.