Painting. A complex word, depending on what it makes you feel when you say it. The first time I picked up a paintbrush or filled my palms with paint and touched them to a large canvas, I felt as though I had stepped into another world. A world where my whole being came to life with heightened senses that spun and twirled madly...
Painting, for me, was a destination more than an act. When I entered that place, there was an outpouring of emotions and I felt my true self come alive. I lost myself in emotions, characters, colors and other endless feelings...
Never knowing who might turn up...
When I started painting, it didn't matter if I was good at it or not. The passion that burst out of me as a teenager was addicting. I knew, I had to build my world around that "place."
Fast forward to today. A moment in time, where my path allows me to create freely...
Where I am totally open to "anyone" who wants to visit me in my little piece of sand on the Island of Art...
Sirens, ballerinas, bird girls - they are all free to come in and show me what they want me to see. I am open...
Sooooo, imagine my surprise, when I felt a deep sense of a visitor in my studio last week, whispering all sorts of things to me. A visitor who was about to take me on quite a journey.
La Maestra, Frida Kahlo...
I could see her in my mind's eye, beckoning me to paint her, telling me she would hold my hand.
I was hesitant to share this here, because this was a very deep and personal experience for me.
Alas, I decided to go ahead and share my little story...
As you know, growing up in and around Mexico, Frida is very alive in the culture. As a child, you are introduced to her, her story. Her gifts. So perhaps that is why I feel such a connection to her...
Anyhow, there I was minding my own business last week, getting ready to paint something else, when I felt this deep pull and heard whispers that I feel to be true.
My intended painting took a turn, and instead, I went on a journey with Frida...
Late nights. Letting go, not being impatient. Listening to her...
Waking up to paint. Going to bed late after a long day of painting, little tunes keeping me company. Losing sense of time and place...
Mi rebozo, Mi rebozo, she whispered...
So, her shawl was worked in... Her arms hidden underneath it, embracing herself, and her delicate frame that had been in a body cast and through so many surgeries throughout her life due to her terrible accident...
Little by little, everything fell into place -
(Click on images for better view)
Coming to life...
As I shared before, I had put away a lot of my portrait paintings, many unfinished, years ago. This painting taught me I have a discipline and a patience, I perhaps didn't have 10 years ago...
My emotions overflowed...
On my last day of painting, Mister Lovee stood behind me, tears filling his eyes. As I made my last brush stroke to the ribbon, I said to him, "I can't feel her anymore..."
"That is because your are finished," he whispered....
And so, I don't know what her fate will be. But for now, she looks on, as I fade into dreams...
So, that's the little story of Frida, the Butterfly, and Me...
♥,V
Print (and cards) of original are available here in my online shop.
See you sooooon... ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
ps: A couple times a week, I will work in stories at my other blog, Through the Secret Keyhole...
pss: If you would like to learn more about Frida Kahlo I would recommend watching this PBS film (Netflix has it), along with the Special Features on the DVD, http://www.pbs.org/weta/fridakahlo/. You can also watch the movie Frida.
psss: Thank you soooo much for the art love on my Frida Kahlo Painting (portrait). It means more than I can express!! xoxo
