A feeling that I cannot silence

Tuesday, 21st of November 2017
I often make these question to myself: Destiny, do you really exist? Do our souls perpetuate their existence in different bodies, living endlessly life after life? And yet… I haven’t find a precise answer. I just have the unexplainable feeling of belonging to another time and place. A feeling that I cannot silence, that leaves me restless, lost in this present life, in-between everything: unfulfilled.

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Frida Kahlo – A Biography

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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.”