“You were called AUXOCHROME the one who captures color. I CHROMOPHORE—the one who gives color.” — Frida Kahlo, The Diary of Frida Kahlo
Dear one,
It’s a still humid night. My hair clings to the back of my neck until an errant breeze momentarily cools my skin and I think of you propped in your netted bed, your carmine-tipped fingers fluttering over a canvas or penning a letter of love to your man
with green-gold eyes. Your pitted, scarred body is wrought with pain but you offer yourself fully, unselfconsciously, and he sees only the strong woman you are, the steel that encases your moist beating heart that is his. Despite the torment of bone and flesh, your spirit moves light, color, space. You are the miracle, the horizon, the landscape of his desire.
*
Lyrics in English here.
Image of Frida by Omar Sahel
(I have insomnia tonight, so…..)
This is lovely, Charlotte. Kahlo has always fascinated me, her art so bold and fearless yet with a vulnerability that takes my breath away. Her life so short yet lived so fully. We saw an exhibition of her art at the Salvatore Dali Museum in St. Pete, FL, several years ago. We were lucky as we had arranged to meet up with family who had come down from NY for a few days.
Love, love this, Charlotte! 💓💓💓