The Diary of Frida Kahlo

“All of this in order to say that Kahlo entered her box in the second tier of the theater, all of these splendors and distractions came to nought. The jangling of sumptuous jewelry drowned out the sounds of the orchestra, but something beyond mere noise forced us all to look upwards and discover the apparition that announced herself with an incredible throb of metallic rhythms and then exhibited the self that both the noise of the jewelry and the silent magnetism displayed.

It was the entrance of an Aztec goddess, perhaps Coatlicue, the mother deity wrapped in her skirt of serpents, exhibiting her own lacerated, bloody hands the way other women sport a brooch. Perhaps it was Tlazolteotl, the goddess of both impurity and purity in the Indian pantheon, the feminine vulture who must devour filth in order to cleanse the universe. Or maybe we were seeing the Spanish Earth Mother, the Lady of Elche, rooted to the soil by her heavy stone helmet, her earrings as big as cartwheels, her pectorals devouring her breasts, her rings transforming her hands into claws.”

It’s hard not to be immersed right from beginning of Carlos Fuentes’ introduction. You all know I am in love with Frida Kahlo. Her spirit. Her energy. Her creativity. The Diary of Frida Kahlo unites all of that and I highly recommend it.

Here’s a sneak peek of a few pages:

The Diary of Frida Kahlo, An Intimate Self-Portrait

Introduction by Carlos Fuentes

Essay and Commentaries by Sarah M. Lowe