Stick a flower in your hair and go to battle with your fears. Frida Kahlo’s life story is full of shadows and darkness, excruciating pain, and she bled her anger and woundedness out onto canvases, wore her beautiful dresses, knotted up her hair in beautiful days, and woke up every morning to greet the day however it came towards her.
Read one expression of her story here:
https://www.aruma.com.au/about-us/blog/facts-about-the-amazing-life-of-frida-kahlo/
Frida painted her stories of fear, of pain, of torture that lasted all her life. Her body was tortured. He intellect suffered, betimes, from the pain. Her emotions swooped up and down and her relationships were chaotic. Her marriage to Diego was tumultuous. She was more than most could handle. But she had a spirit that refused not being heard. When I saw her paintings in a gallery, along with Diego’s, I was dumbstruck with the emotion she could put on canvas. Her story became personal, listening to quotes from her diary, seeing the horror of what pain did to her, through her different mediums. Her dear, brave, broken self, had, at least, art.
When I think I have reason to feel pitiful, I remember what she went through. I am one who does not share my deepest feelings except in my art and I am still very careful about that. Sometimes our art is all we have as well. It soothes me to connect to awen. I get lost in the comfort and the time that I am immersed in the waters of higher intellect, creative waters that are ancient and truly soulful. Art that is allowed to simply come and be is holy. I feel holy when I am sitting at my art desk, in the middle of the night, and allowing creation to guide my hands and choose my colors and draw my shapes. I wish you all this; the comfort in troubled times that produces pieces of soul on to substate of any kind.
©Carol Desjarlais 11.14.22
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