Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera had a very painful, turmoil filled, passion driven, common love fueled relation. That is only my perspective, a narrow one, compiled from several sourses, mostly the recent exhibit at THE HIGH, showing both of their works side by side and captioning exerts out of their letters, memoirs and commentaries with large texts on the walls besides the paintings. However much they struggled together,went through betrayal, divorce, multiple lovers, they were never able to let go of one another, forever remaining the loves of each others lives. After Frida's death in 1954, Diego wrote, "I realized that the most wonderful part of my life had been my love for Frida." My question is; for these two individuals, was love for each other dependent on the addiction to pain? What I mean is if a person who had to suffer early in life, just like Frida, from her accident at 18, from her miscarriages, from inability to have children for the rest of her life. As she got use to pain being imprinted in her being, did she also search for it in her relationship? and if there was no pain, was she feeling not complete? Or was it just fate that governed the entire love and life affair, resulting in them ending up together despite all the heavy history. Was Diego her one and true love and no matter how much pain there was, there always existed a counterbalance that didn't allow them to find truth and calm in any other person/relationship that they entered? It is crucial that I find out an answer to this question. Crucial for me.
There is a difficulty speaking about myself at the moment. My heart is in a state of self preservation, requiring a mute button. It happens when you allow life experiences to cycle.
I saw a couple of teenage boys sitting at the footsteps of my apartment complex today, as I was making my way to the garage for a cappuccino trip. One of them was passionately addressing the rest, something along the lines of "lets RISE against unfairness!!!". Hopefully in a peaceful manner. As I was driving away from my house, I saw same 4 crossing the street. Two of them simultaneously stopped and started reaching in their front pockets. Since their pants were hanging "fashionably" low pass the waistline, as they reached for whatever they both needed, teens touched the street floor through their pockets and kept walking and sweeping the street with their pants.
In Corpus, across the street from me there is a harbor, where numerous sail boats find their rest at night. It is separated by a thin pile of rocks extending into the ocean and wrapping around the beach area, making a half oval shape. Very rarely you see people walk on the rocks and you can barely make out silhouettes far away from the shore. I always wanted to walk there. So I did. I made my way at dusk and as I started walking further down the rocks, I noticed a different line of silhouettes at my feet...it was rats...needless to say...I advanced no further and decided that these "romantic" strolls are better reserved for locations with a lower population of starving rodents. But hey, a rush of adrenaline never hurt anyone as long as it is not followed by rabies shots.
Listening to the new the National album "Trouble will find me" is a treat, a sweet sorrow treat of course. Following it with Radiohead "Ok computer" is a dangerous pleasure. Opening up a potential for a soul and sense numbing experience. Listening to this "duo" continuously for 3 days..oh boy...
Saving grace is a great conversation about altruism, and wholeheartedness with long time friends. A reminder of value of a word. A reminder to not allow sorrow occupy a space in the heart and self-doubt to shake the ground I stand on.