Impressions of Frida

Every one has an impression of her, no one is indifferent. Last October, I strolled through the Utah Museum of Fine Arts' traveling exhibit “Frida Kahlo Through the Lens of Nickolas Muray. I say, I strolled--actually, I staggered through. Strolling had been my intention, but often, I was simply struck still at the impressions that formed in me. Frida Kahlo was a woman who lived her life with enviable passion. Once, I was struck to sitting as I read her words to her husband/lover Diego Rivera. My knees went weak and for the second time in two weeks found myself swooning.

Diego, principo

Diego, constructor

Diego, mi nino

Diego, mi amor

Diego, mi pintor

Diego, mi amante

Diego, mi esposo

Diego, mi amigo

Diego, mi madre

Diego, mi padre

Diego, mi hijo

Diego, yo

Diego universo

Diversidad en la unidad

Por que lo llamo mi Deigo? Nunca fue mio y nunca lo sera. Se pertenece a si mismo.

Incredible words. There was an incredible passion that bleeds through the photographs onto the museum walls.

Frida

Herself,

Bright palette

Bold performer on the ancient stage

Blue satin bloused and ribboned unashamed

Eyes beneath the shadow of heavy darkened brow

Two Fridas connected by a vein

Medusa eye

Flashing

Glaring

Daring

Lightening bursting

Cold and hard as steel blades

It speaks:

“I’ll be able to solve my own problems and survive”

Mother eye/Lover eye

Beckoning

Caressing

Absorbing shadows

Collecting tears

“You are in my heart, almost as close as Diego”

A woman with the courage to stand against walls

And demand her satisfaction from a thankless world.

“I never painted dreams

I painted my own reality.”

--Pamela Dawn