Frida Kahlo, A Beauty From Mexico

Bring me to the arts! Dayumm, I am so much into Frida Kahlo’s arts. Expressionless. Magical. Those beautiful crowns. Geeszhh, I wish she is alive, I might wanna go to her exhibition and say, “What an enchanting art!”

Alright, to you who don’t really know who she is. I will introduce her. Frida Kahlo was a painter. Born in July 6, 1907 with name Magdalena Carmen Frieda Kahlo y Calderón. Kahlo’s work is remembered for its “pain and passion” and its intense, vibrant colors. Her work has been reminded by feminists for its uncompromising depiction of the female experience and form. She rejected the “surrealist” label on her works, she believed that they reflected more of her reality than her dreams (and I do agree! Her paintings are so real, in my opinion as a dilettante). One surrealist named André Breton described her art as a “ribbon around a bomb”.

Frida was married to a Mexican artist named Diego Rivera. She suffered lifelong health problems, many of which stemmed from a traffic accident in her teenage years. These problems are reflected in her works, more than half of which are self-potraits of one sort or another. She suggested, “I paint myself because I am so often alone and because I am the subject I know best”. Another statement she said, “I was born a bitch. I was born a painter.”

Frida created some 200 paintings, drawings, and sketches. 55 of her 143 paintings are her self-potraits. She had her first exhibition in Mexico in 1953. A local critic said, “It is impossible to separate the life and work of this extraordinary person. Her paintings are her biography.” Yes, beside her health problems from the accident, she also had a stormy, passionate relationship survived infidelities, the pressures of careers, divorce, remarriages, her affairs and also her inability to have children. She once said, “I suffered two grave accidents in my life…One in which a street car knocked me down and the other was Diego”. The accident ruined her physically, and Diego ruined her emotionally. Then, once she’d been asked what to do with her body when she dies, she answered, “Burn it…I don’t wanna be burried. I have spent too much time laying down…Just burn it!” She died in her  47 in July 13, a week after her birthday. Her last note in the diary said: “I hope the end is joyful – and I hope never to return – Frida.”

That’s a little of her that I can share. Why her arts impress me? Because they are real. Yes, am not into something surreal. And despite of her arts, the ways she lived her life impress me also. She struggled – all those pain that she suffered. And she could make it til the end. She won the battle of life. Because I know some people who complain much about their life without making efforts, just complain. And hey, that’s a learnt! Have a good day.

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