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Gaston 2022-10-03 15:36:13
roses in mexico
You come from the rich colors and play with the pain of life. You rub the trauma into the paintings like every child giving birth, so they just belong to you.
Your husband Diego commented: I, paint the world in my eyes, and you, paint the world in your heart.
Drink water when you are thirsty and... -
Jeromy 2022-10-01 13:38:40
A feast of joy and pain
The life of ordinary people is always dull, so my love for movies is like falling into a dream, or looking up at the gorgeous process.
This 2002 film about the famous Mexican female painter Frida still looks so bright that the soul is shaking. The rare director tells about her long life process...
Loló Navarro
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Sheila 2022-04-22 07:01:34
Even women love her, not to mention men. Her life is like a raging flame. From seeing Diego flirting with nude models, from dozens of surgeries after being seriously injured, from the time she enthusiastically devoted herself to the communist revolution, she has not stopped, she has been walking, and has been arrogant. Love, extreme, narcissistic, and arrogant, style. Her brush is a tool to transmit the spirit, and even integrate into her own body.
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Hans 2022-04-23 07:02:40
Bougainvillea red unique to Mexico, royal blue bungalows, peacocks walking in the courtyard and white plaster closely associated with Frida, various solid colors of Mexican national costumes, blood, black hair, black pain, blooming flowers and opaque tears.
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Frida Kahlo: At the end of the day, we can endure much more than we think we can.
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Diego Rivera: There was this skinny kid with these eyebrows shouting up at me, "Diego, I want to show you my paintings!" But, of course, she made me come down to her, and I did, and I've never stopped looking. But I want to speak about Frida not as her husband, but as an artist. I admire her. Her work is acid and tender... hard as steel... and fine as a butterfly's wing. Loveable as a smile... cruel as... the bitterness of life. I don't believe... that ever before has a women put such agonized poetry on canvas.
Frida Kahlo: [as she's brought into the gallery] Shut up, panzon. Who died?
