Frida
‘I was born a bitch. I was born a painter.’ (Frida Kahlo)
She was born an artist - she painted what she saw. She painted her feelings, her thoughts and her ideas.
She took you on a journey - a personal one. For no matter what twists and turns her life endeavored, her inspirations always came down to one main focal point...herself.
She was her own muse. She painted herself because she knew who she was; she knew who she wanted to be.
Her paintings resembled life. They represented troubles, hardship and pain - she was emotionally crippled.
She was unstable. ‘A ribbon around a bomb,’ (André Breton).
She painted her own reality - the truest reflection of self. These paintings made up her biography...no words were needed. But these paintings spoke for her - they put her life into perspective.
An existence of ups and downs, of disabilities and long-term illness. Decades of misfortune, of bitterness and relationship struggles - physical and emotional suffering... Her paintings took her to another place.
She looked to painting as an escape. It gave her opportunity and the ability to be who she wanted to be at any given time. Imagine those fearless flamingos taking flight in the Yucatán Peninsula on the Gulf. They are free from the burden of being on the ground. They are able to explore, to feel, to live. No Restrictions. She wanted to feel liberated.
‘Feet, what do I need you for when I have wings to fly?’ (Frida Kahlo)
She was an icon. A legend. A lone individual perhaps; but she was rare. ‘A tequila-slamming, dirty joke-telling smoker and a bi-sexual.’ (unknown)
She didn’t care what people thought. Covered from head to toe in a glorious array of vibrant colours that often resembled the costumes worn by Mariachi dancers. She was a national treasure.
She wore mis-matching prints, un-coordinated textures and flowers in her hair wherever she went. And let’s not forget that infamous brow. Some might declare it her trademark - and only true icons are recognised in such a way.
‘She never looked nice. She looked like art, and art wasn’t supposed to look nice; it was supposed to make you feel something.’ (‘Eleanor & Park’, Rainbow Rowell)
Her passion for intense colour is embedded in her work, for despite her ups and downs she didn’t live life in black and white. Envisage the spectacular spectrum of rainbow colours which paint the Guanajuato City scape - they are screaming to be noticed... she was screaming to be noticed...
She was a surrealist - life is not always as it seems after all...
Life, however, is a picture book - telling stories about highs and lows through beautiful imagery. She took the most prominent events, and created multiple masterpieces.
She was a creator. An interpreter. An artist.
She craved to be individual, to be different, to be unique - and she craved recognition for achieving this. She created a legacy - a series of masterpieces to forever grace our presence.
‘I leave you my portrait so that you will have my presence all the days and nights that I am away from you.’ (Frida Kahlo)
She was an inspiration - a female with a name for herself. An Aztec Goddess of the modern world.
Yet her life remained a struggle. A series of unfortunate events, per say - but she stood her ground. She was a fighter; like a tenacious bull fighting for its life in the infamous rings of Mexico City...
The fight would not last forever.
‘I hope the exit is joyful and I hope never to return.’ (Frida Kahlo)
Dia de Muertos - let her live forever in our memory.
She was born a bitch. She died a painter...
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