FRIDA KALHO'S DIARY

16 Octobre 2013

"I hope the end is joyful - and I hope never to come back"
Frida.

"I never knew I was a surrealist till Andre Breton came to Mexico and told me I was."

"I drank to drown my pain, but the damned pain learned how to swim, and now I am overwhelmed by this decent and good behavior."

"I am not sick. I am broken. But I am happy as long as I can paint".

"I suffered two grave accidents in my life. One in which a streetcar knocked me down. The other accident is Diego."

Letter:
Since you wrote to me, on that clear, distant day, I have wanted to explain to you, that I can't get away from the days, or return in time to that other time. I have not forgotten you - the nights are long and difficult. The water. The ship and the dock and the parting which made you appear so small, to my eyes, framed in that round porthole, and you gazing at me so as to keep me in your heart. Everything is untouched. Later, came the days, new of you. Today, I wish my sun could touch you. I tell you, your eyeball is my eyeball, the puppet characters all arranged in their large glass room, belong to us both. Yours is the huipil with magenta ribbons. Mine the ancient square of your Paris, above all, the magnificent - [Place] des Vosges.
so forgotten and so firm. Snail shells and the bride-doll, is yours too - I mean, it is you. Her dress, is the same one she wouldn't take off on the day of the wedding to no-one, when we found her half asleep on the dirty sidewalf of some street. My skirts with their lace flounces and the antique blouse I always wore XXXXXXXX paint the absent portrait of only one person. But the color of your skin, of your eyes and your hair change with the winds in Mexico. ~~The death of the onld man pained us so much that we talked and spent the day together.~~ To too Know that all my eyes see, all I touch with myself, from any distance, is Diego. The caress of fabrics, the color of colors, the wires, the nerves, the pencils, the leaves, the dust, the cells, the war and the sun, everything experienced in the minutes of the non-clocks and non-calendars and the empty non-glances is him. You felt it, that's why you let that ship take me away from Le Havre where you never said goodbye to me.
I will write to you with my eyes,
always. Kiss XXXXXXX the little girl . .

"They said I was a surrealist, but I wasn't. I never painted dreams. I painted my reality."

"I paint my own reality. The only thing I know is that I paint because I need to, and I paint whatever passes through my head without any other consideration."

"I paint self-portraits because I am so often alone, because I am the person I know best."

"Passing through ostentatiously

Business heap,

Had I a curtain

dark print

noisy mocker

winged with motors

extra brilliance

dancing silhouette

suffering singing

shaded planted

subtle sting

veiled color of

the same cloudy yellow sky

bound looseness

mission of the wind

rotund.

maraca strip

curious morning

bird lemon.

dark shroud

tumbling rubbish

singing footsteps

stolen on the wing

returned great birdsong,

antique garments

the coarse cells

of the heart.

Passing through ostentatiously

business heap

Had I a curtain

dark print

noisy mocker

winged with motors

extra brilliance

dancing silhouette

suffering singing

subtle sting"

"No moon, sun, diamond, hands-

fingertip, dot, ray, gauze, sea.

Pine green, pink glass, eye,

mine, eraser, mud, mother, I am coming.

= Yellow love, fingers, useful

child, flower, wish, artifice, resin.

Pasture, bismuth, saint, soup tureen.

Segment, year, tin, another foal.

Point machine, stream, I am.

Methylene, joke, cancer, laughter.

Warble - glance - neck, vine

black hair silk girl wind =

father grief pirate saliva

hay clamp consumption lively

wave - ray - earth - red - I am.

April. 30th.

Child rennet, his, king, black radio -

popular destiny I search - hands. Today.

Elm tree. Olmedo. Violet. Canary

buzzing - stoning - whiteness of gray

road - silhouette - tenderness

ballad - gangrene - Petrarch

sunflower - sinister blues. Acute

rosemary - circumlocutions - garbage - yesterday

lap - tumbling - I draw close

visions - illusive - sleeping - pillar.

Friendly columns - murmers of glass

abuses - nearby - lies - passion.

Arcane - thousands - money - vigor.

Overlapping conscience - prostitute palm grove.

The strength - maring - hunchback control -

looks I say - withered hair

mikado - martyrdom - senile gurgle

= square bright star seized,

at russet dawn - at the green lie -

landslide nasal without pleasure seat.

First - decimated - pompous

bitter precocious - beautiful infamities

rotund orange throat

what a thing. Graveyard.

Moonlit hailstones singing

brilliant gesture

alert - padlock - roman

fiery. Little box

he painted it. Killer.

Child - little child - brad

my leaden heart

graceful snowfall - airplane bubble

I was lying - flaccid - running - revelry

without story reason.

Great haste mirrorlike

cardboard doll

Acute portraits with tender emotion.

Searching - laughing - dark skinned - button

gerund Gerona

German sparrow

tawny throat

delighted passion.

Bee - fondness - perfume - cord

crumb - fool's gold - jumping voyer

soldier ease - solstice strip.

Purple quadrant - open gown.

Microned matter

martyrdom quince

grapeshot micron.

Branches, seas, bitterly went

into the faraway eyes. Ursas

majors. Voice . . . hushed. Life. Flower.

May 2nd. May 4th. May 7th.

He doesn't see the color. He has the color.

I make the shape. He doesn't look at it.

He doesn't give the life he has.

He has life.

Warm and white is his voice.

He stayed but never arrived.

I'm leaving."