Frida Kahlo used to say that she had two serious accidents in her life: the first one was the accident on the bus and the second one was Diego (her husband), but, even so, she carried on in life and inspired many souls. Today, I’m sharing with you this amazing book illustrated and written by the talented artist Maria Hesse. Every page of this biography is an achievement of perfection, I have cried and laugh while reading it, and cried especially when I read a transcription of Frida Kahlo’s diary written to her beloved Diego. I don’t want to reduce this book to this paragraph or even her art, but it shows clearly how she felt life and the great capacity of loving the one who hurt her the most. I guess love is this…: accepting the faults, learning to forgive and respect which one oneness. She was not a surrealist, she was an artist who felt viscerally everything with brushes, shapes, and colors. Thank you, Frida, for existing and thank you, Maria Hesse, for devoting your time to this unique book.
The transcription of Frida Kahlo’s diary written to her Diego:
Diego – the beginning,
Diego – the constructor,
Diego – my child,
Diego – my fiancé,
Diego – painter,
Diego – my lover,
Diego – My Husband!
Diego – my mother,
Diego – my child,
Diego – me,
Diego – the universe,
Diversity in oneness.
Why do I call him My Diego? ’cause he will never belong to me. He belongs only to itself.
(the original spanish version)
“Diego – princípio, Diego – constructor, Diego – mi niño, Diego – mi novio, Diego – pintor, Diego – mi amante, Diego – !mi esposo!, Diego – mi amigo, Diego – mi padre, Diego – mi madre, Diego – mi hijo, Diego – yo, Diego – universo. Diversidad en la unidad. Por que lo llamo mi Diego? Nunca fue ni será mio. És de él mismo.”
I started the new year with a flew and feeling sad with my current life state, perhaps I thought that everything will change as soon as the 2017 cling at my door, but it didn’t and I am not enjoying much my work, I am constantly watching the hours passing by and longing for my two days off, which is rather depressing. I just hope things change: that I find happiness and a nest where I am surrounded by lovely ones and where I can feel the sensation of relieve.
All the fog that has been numbing the horizon will disappear but, meanwhile these wishes don’t come true, tea and books are helping me reminding that life has its secret pleasures. So today, I spent my second day off with one of my favorite tea brands @twgteaofficial! Christmas was kind enough to present me with a box of a green tea with alluring notes of red berry and royal pineapple. Charlotte Brontë couldn’t have a better company! I just wish that life was all about tea, flowers and books, for me this would be heaven!
“For some nights I slept profoundly; but still every morning I felt the same lassitude, and a languor weighed upon me all day. I felt myself a changed girl. A strange melancholy was stealing over me, a melancholy that I would not have interrupted. Dim thoughts of death began to open, and an idea that I was slowly sinking took gentle, and, somehow, not unwelcome possession of me. If it was sad, the tone of mind which this induced was also sweet. Whatever it might be, my soul acquiesced in it.”
J. Sheridan Le Fanu
The past few days were spent like this: strolling around, reading and gazing the beginning of the spring. I finally finished reading The Gravedigger’s Daughter and I am rendered to the Joyce Carol Oates’ writing talent. This book is still living inside of me, and I am still hearing the echoes of the voices from the different characters. The first 200 pages were very hard for me to read (and I know why, everything that was written was so accurate, that I was feeling tremendously affected), but then I’ve started to enjoying it, more and more. I must say that Joyce Carol writes, above all, about the brutally of the human soul.
It’s 6 a.m and I’m starting my day with Simone de Beauvoir and you?