Chingona
You are now in every flower ever grown, across many gardens; vibrant and bold, just like you were in life. Nobody can contest that you lived out loud in a world that would not silence you. Your daring art style delivered new objectivity at your height, and speaks to me today. You were fearless, and not perfunctory in your pursuit to capture personal experiences, both profoundly sad and swarming with life; everything seems contradictory, but purposeful.
I am older now than you were at your eldest, and try to imagine how your uncompromising mind worked; how your eyes captured and relayed to your heart and hands the beauty that painted your canvas. It is obvious to me, nature spoke to you and through you. Nothing was taboo, instead you placed your wounds and pain outwardly for all to see.
Your work has been described as “ a ribbon around a bomb”, and I believe it is the most apt of compliments. Like many of your paintings, I feel you had quite a duality which was presented to the world; the fierce and tenacious artist, and the wife of Diego Rivera, both which might not have existed were your circumstances a slight bit different.
Mentor, teacher, icon who appreciated each nuance of Mexican culture, you observed the world with its streets, music, people, flavors and many colors, and gave it all back in the form of delightful artwork.
One can follow your transformation from not-yet-discovered powerhouse to your later years in confinement where the subject matter lived in a dark period of what I can only guess was unimaginable pain. A fighter of freedoms always, your own included, you poured your energy into the Revolution, fervently, and I believe that kept you alive and sustained you, while it could.
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I would have loved to attend one of your exhibitions while you were living. I envision you there as Queen Bee with the hive erupting in activity and excitement just to be in your presence. You were humble in regards to your education which adds to your intrigue. You reflected the ideals of, and also helped to bolster Mexicanidad, a movement which thankfully still exists.
Your Retablos are exquisite and inspired my love of allegory. Each of your creations ask important questions and share pieces of you, all undoubtedly beautiful. You celebrated sexuality, marginality and exploration of the feminine, much to the dismay of many, but in doing so, created necessary conversations.
I barely consider myself artistic, but I can appreciate beauty in the mundane and I do feel creative on most days. I made two paintings, once, in what I felt was the closest to the brightness you offered, they are called “the hand” and “Dos suenos “. Though I am no painter, I owe you the inspiration.
Your eccentricities in life have made you one of the most important artistic figures of the twentieth century and your popularity carries on nearly seventy years posthumously.
Your visage can be found everywhere today, printed en masse on every sort of thing- it might make you blush to discover that, but it gives me a great sense of pride that a little girl from Mexico City, who shared her life through her art, is such a force in this world that even in death, she lives on inspiring, encouraging and representing women of all kinds. While your self portraits are easily found, it would be impossible for you to be replicated. There will never be another Frida; the world isn’t large enough. Gracias, Chingona, por tu vida pura y por amarnos con tu arte.
