Brigitte Wellisch, Rote Erde

Nel mezzo del cammin

di nostra vita

mi ritrovai per una selva oscura,

che la diritta via era smarrita

Half-way upon the journey of our life

I find myself within a forest of darkness

for the straight way had been lost

Dante, La Divina Commedia,  Inferno, Canto Primo

I said to myself: “Here I am and I might be elsewhere – I might exist a thousand years ago or in a thousand years’ time …”

I thought how I had come out of endless night and would soon go on into another endless night and that my brief passing was marked only by absurd and casual actions.

I then understood that my distress was caused not by what I was doing but more profoundly by the mere fact of being alive which was neither good nor evil but only painful and meaningless.

Alberto Moravia, La Romana

No beginning, middle, end – such is the structureless structure…

Our existence, as we know it, is no longer transparent and understandable by reason, bound together into a tight, coherent structure.

William Barret, Irrational Man

All these people… know where they’re going and what they want,

they have a purpose and so they hurry along,

they’re tormented, sad, happy, alive,

while I … I have nothing… no purpose…

if I weren’t walking I’d be sitting down; it makes no difference

Alberto Moravia, Gli Indifferenti

Lucio Fontana, Concerto Spaziale Attese

Seven nights higher red makes for red,

seven hearts deeper the hand knocks on the gate,

seven roses later plashes the fountain.

Paul Celan, Kristall

After that, everything became hazy; the minutes passed more and more slowly until eventually minutes seemed like hours. Two or three times the distant barking of a dog offered some hope, but we couldn’t see anything in the pitch black night and the dogs fell silent or were in the wrong direction.

Ernesto Che Guevara, Un diarrio per un viaggio in motocicletta

… for I have long since resigned myself to being myself.

But the fact is that my longing for a splendid imaginary destiny has, as it were, condensed the tragic, purple elements of my actual life into a kind of extremely compact, solid, and scintillating reduction…

Jean Genet, Our Lady of the Flowers

Mermaids

No! It is not a mermaids trio I write about.

Mamacitas

No! It is not a “mamacitas” trio I write about!

Menage a trois

No! It is not a “menage a trois” I write about.

Today’s trio is a dessert that can send you to heaven, but if you overstep the mark you go straight to hell.

Having established the risk factors involved, I can now proceed to uncover the pleasures of this incredibly satisfying dish. As in other instances, I will follow an approach the first deconstructs and then constructs. In other words, I will present the components of the dish, and then the synthseis, i.e. the way the pieces come together.

Quince (kydoni)

Quince

Quince is one  of my all time favourite fruits, because it goes with almost everything in the winter time menu.

Quince Desser a la Greque - Kydoni glyko tou koutaliou (Source: RaDiCio)

But most of all, I absolutely fall dangerously low when I have in front of me shredded quince served as a sweet with syrup (kydoni glyko tou koutaliou).

Katiki Cream Cheese

The small town of Domokos in Central Greece

Katiki isa creamy white cheese made in Domokos, Central Greece, and has the PDO (Protected Designation of Origin) designation.

Katiki Cream Cheese - Domokos Greece

It is made from Goat and Sheep milk, it is extremely low in fat (13%) and extremely light and tasty. In two words, I just LOOOOOOOOVE it!!!!!!!!

Semolina Halva

Greek Semolina Halva (source: Nirvana)

This is one of my all time favourite sweets, it has zillions of calories, but the road to heaven is NOT, I repeat NOT, covered with rose petals.

The key difference from the Turkish Halva is that in Greece we make it with olive oil, instead of butter. In any case, wherever I am and I find it, I just eat it, I do not have any nationalistic inhibitions.  I bypass the extremely interesting question: “Should Nationalism restrict or even inhibit Pleasure?” as it is a topic by itself.

Killing me softly

The trio came about after a nice lunch was over and I realized that I had prepared no dessert. Luckily, one of the guests had brought a wonderful platter with semolina halva on it, the day before I had bought fresh katiki cheese, and a good friend had sent me a jar with shredded quince in syrup. This combination of events created a spark in my otherwise dormant imagination and the trio was born.

Killing me softly

It is a joy in terms of texture, as the creamy soft texture of the cheese envelopes the crunchy robust texture of the quince, and the semolina joins in the fun providing the middle ground.

The combinations do not end in texture. The slightly savory taste of the cheese is supplemented by the sweet bitter taste of the quince, while the semolina finds itself again dominating the middle ground.

Enjoy it!!!!

The watchman of the decommissioned (moored in the area  of Elefsis) vessel “Claudia M” (Italian flag)  died of a heart attack, at the age of 56.

"Claudia M"moored in the Sicilian port of Trapani, sometime in 2010

There is no mentioning of a name.

The dead man remains anonymous.

We do not know his nationality.

All the details that are ususally reported wehne someone dies, are missing.

Seaman's Book

Except of his age and his employment.

Do the details matter after all?

A seaman’s life is exposed to the huge risks created by the Sea and force of the Elements.

Most of the time seamen’s deaths are reported, they have been caused by naval accidents while the ship was en route to somewhere.

In Claudia M’s case, the ship was already decommissioned. Moored outside the port of Piraeus, near Elefsis.

The man most likely died surrounded by boredom, by the relentless pressure that Time puts upon us when we have all the time in the world and absolutely nothing to do.

Apparently, the watchman was  alone on board.

It is likely that he called for help, prior to departing from this futile world.

Officers of the Greek Coast Guard boarded the vessel, and transferred the man to the nearest hospital, where he was confirmed dead.

Claudia M in Livorno, in 2009

I write about someone’w death and I do not even know his name.

I do not even know the “good” things that he did, or even some of the “bad” things.

It is common when we escort someone to the outskirts of life as we know it, to refer to the “significant” bits of his life, his personality, and so on.

Obviously I cannot do that, as I know nothing about the man.

But I do not feel that I have to.

To mourn the loss of a human life it is not necessary to evaluate this life , assess it, criticize it, and make the whole thing worth it.

There is no “worth” in Death. There is not “ethical side” in Death.

Nikos Kavadias

Death cannot be counterbalanced by the things that the deceased did, or by the traits of his character and personality.

Death is not concerned about great losses or lesser losses.

Death does not count or weigh the good and the bad.

Death ignores and detests discrimination.

Death is the Great Equalizer nd the Master Annihilator.

And it is because of the equivalent powers of the Sea, that every Seaman has a special relationship with Death. They build this relationship during the long hours, the long days, the long months in the vast territories of the blue and grey waters. And they carry it with them everywhere they go. Until they make the last trip.

Dedication: This post is dedicated to the memory of Seaman Nikos Kavadias, who sailed for the Beyond on the 10th February 1975. 

Thomas Schütte © Jörg Koopmann, May 2009

I first saw works by Schutte in 1999, when he exhibited in the Bernier/Eliades Gallery in Athens, Greece. What impressed me back then were the aluminum figures “Great Spirits”.

Thomas Schutte: Grosse Geister - Great Spirits - No 9 and 14, 1998, Photo courtesy of Bernier/Eliades Gallery

Some 13 years ago, the press release of Bernier/Eliades Gallery read like this:

‘THOMAS SCHÜTTE

January 16 – February 25, 1999

Thomas Schtutte was born in 1954, in Oldenburg,Germany. He lives and works in Dϋsseldorf.

“One of the most important German artists working in the late 20th century, Thomas Schütte’s installations, sculptures, models, drawings and watercolours can take many, often contradictory guises.

His art looks utilitarian, offering shelter, sustenance and companionship, yet delivers false promises and alien worlds: a museum that incinerates art; potatoes made of bronze; or the artist’s own ‘audience’, consisting of wooden stand-ins or metallic figures assembled before his work. Like Gulliver wandering through a Swiftian world of shifting scales, the viewer is immersed in a series of theatrum mundi, poetic yet dysfunctional utopias which alternate between the private and the public, the romantic and the sceptical.

The artist deploys a vivid spectrum of colours and a range of materials to revision the basic constituents – natural, cultural and political – of everyday life whilst exploring fundamental questions about the artist and society.”

(Thomas Schütte, Phaidon)

The exhibition will last until February 25, 1999.’

Thomas Schutte: Gross Geister, Palazzo Grassi, Venice

I met one of the great spirits again in Venice in late 2011, in Palazzo Grassi. The photo below is shaken and obscure, but it is better than nothing. The sculpture is enveloped by Jeff Koons’ Balloon Dog.

The photo was taken under distress, as in spite of the fact that there was no reasonably priced catalogue, the policy of the Palazzo is not to allow photographs. I protest!

“The Grosse Geister came to life through the formation and molding of long strands of wax, which were 
then cast in aluminum. This explains their anti-monumental appearance: they are both robotic and organic, futuristic and absurd. The “great minds” referred to in this work’s title are contained in reflective aluminum shells, which passively absorb the shadows and forms of their environment. Despite their monumental size, they seem elastic, ready to move about the space as soon as the viewer looks away. This blending of contradictory elements results in these comic somewhat mischievous sculptures, through which Schütte gives mass and presence to vaporous beings.” (Source: Palazzo Grassi)

Thomas Schutte: Grosse Geister, Kunstplatz Graben, Wien, 2011

While I was in Venice, other great spirits were installed in Kunstplatz Graben, in Vienna. This time, they are black and look menacing. The neutral curiosity of the alumunium is replaced by the threatening black shining surface.

I quote from the October 2009 issue of “frieze” magazin’s review of the Thomas Schutte exhibition in Munich’s Haus der Kunst:

‘Schütte’s ‘Große Geister’ series stalked the entrance to the show, foreshadowing the exhibition’s partial focus on the figure and the artist’s ambivalent relationship to it. Melty, molten and reflective, these aluminium figures evince both menace and levity: part Darth Vader, part Pillsbury Doughboy. Outsized, they put the viewer at a disadvantage, an auspicious start to Schütte’s lecture on power relations. ‘

I have two comments on the Great Spirits:

• The name chosen: we do not have a person, or a creature even. We have an entity that cannot be grasped by our senses, it is a Spirit.
• The entity is a cross between the human form and a robot, although the Michelin Man also comes to mind (or SPirit?) for parts of the body.

Thomas Schutte: Efficiency Men, Punta della Dogana, Venice

Next meeting with Schutte’s work was in Punta della Dogana, in Venice yet again. This time I met with the “Efficiency Men”.

“These works explore states of conflict, isolation, disillusionment, despair and vulnerability, which are also echoed in his Efficiency Men(2005), spectral figures made out of thin steel spirals, wrapped in heavy blankets from which emerge three disquieting colored silicone faces. Grotesque masks of corrupt contemporary society, the three figures advance in space like prisoners in chains engaged in a forced patrol.”  

(Source: In praise of Doubt)

Thomas Schutte: Four Sisters in Bath, 1989, Tate Gallery

Before concluding, let us take a bath with the four sisters, let the water cleanse us and our Minds, Great and Small, silver and black, and lets hope that we get out of the sight of the Efficincy Men.

P.S. I thank Tate Gallery for inspiring me to add “… and draughtsman” to the title of this post.

Christian Boltanski, Chance: French Pavillion, Venice Biennale 2011

“The work presented at Venice is optimistic in its reflection on chance and destiny; the chance of birth against the chance of death. Is everything pre-determined? Who controls destiny? Has our path already been decided? Is God present or absent? At the entrance to the pavilion, the visitor is invited to sit on one of the wooden chairs. A voice whispers to him. Each chair “speaks” in a different language uttering the words “Is this the last time?” Is this a message of hope? Or a troubling announcement?… The interior of the pavilion is criss-crossed by a moving walkway, that travels at great speed and upon which hundreds of photos of childrenʼs faces have been printed. The walkway stops randomly and one of the childrenʼs faces is lit up and an alarm sounds. Chance has picked out one child. The process begins all over again, until the walkway stops again and the alarm signals Chanceʼs next choice.” (Press Release)

Monument in Nuremberg, Germany

“O my soul, do not aspire to immportal life, but

exhaust the limits of the possible”

Pindar, Pythian iii

Messkirch, Germany

The sunset in Vouliagmeni is one of the most beautiful in the world. It is in harmony with Man.

You can reach all areas, you can swim, you can walk, even the rocks are hospitable.

Sunset in Vouliagmeni, Attica, Greece

Even in Wintertime there are brave souls who swim with their bodies.

When I look at them I always think of Schubert’s Winterreise, set on 24 poems of Wilhelm Mueller. Schubert called it “a cycle of terrifying songs”. Here are two of them, sung by Mathias Goerne, accompanied by Alfred Brendel.

Täuschung - Deception

A light on the dark and icy road at night, might be a warm place to stay, or the deception of a beautiful face.

Der Wegweiser  - The Signpost

Straying restlessly away from the roads, he still seeks rest. There is always a signpost in front of him, pointing to the road from which no wanderer returns. Death?

Sunrise in Kaletzi, near Marathon, Greece

The landscape is barren. Three years ago multiple fires scorched the earth and destroyed beautiful pine forests all around.

But the sun every time it rises, makes the barren landscape look beautiful.

Richard Strauss was one of the greatest composers. “Morgen!“ (“Tomorrow!”) is the last in a set of four songs composed in 1894, set in a poem of John Henry Mackay.

It is sung by Dame Janet Baker.

Tomorrow!

Tomorrow again will shine the sun
And on my sunlit path of earth
Unite us again, as it has done,
And give our bliss another birth…
The spacious beach under wave-blue skies
We’ll reach by descending soft and slow,
And mutely gaze in each other’s eyes,
As over us rapture’s great hush will flow.

Martin Heidegger's Feldweg in Messkirch, Germany

In 1948, one year before his death on 1949, Richard Strauss composed “Fier Letzte Lieder”, his “Last Four Songs” for soprano and orchestra.

At Sunset is sung by Gundula Janowitz. Berliner Philharmoniker is conducted by Herbert von Karajan.

Im Abendrot - At Sunset

We have gone through sorrow and joy
hand in hand;
Now we can rest from our wandering
above the quiet land.

Around us, the valleys bow;
the air is growing darker.
Just two skylarks soar upwards
dreamily into the fragrant air.

Come close to me, and let them flutter.
Soon it will be time for sleep.
Let us not lose our way
in this solitude.

O vast, tranquil peace,
so deep at sunset!
How weary we are of wandering—
Is this perhaps death?

“Although The Myth of Sisyphus poses mortal problems, it sums up for me as a lucid invitation to live and to create in the very midst of the desert.”

Albert Camus, in the Preface to his book, March 1955.

In particular, I want to thank all the friends who have subscribed to the blog, and especially Despoinarion, Natalia, Roula, Gianna and Manolis, for their incredible patience in keeping up with the blog.  A warm welcome to the industrious “Laboratorio” owner from Thessaloniki, who joined the  blog in the last months of the year.

Keep well friends and visitors, there is a World out there, and in spite of all appearances, it can give us some moments of pleasure and satisfaction.

Friendly and truly yours

Panathinaeos

HERE STARTS THE REPORT

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2011 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

The Louvre Museum has 8.5 million visitors per year. This blog was viewed about 140,000 times in 2011. If it were an exhibit at the Louvre Museum, it would take about 6 days for that many people to see it.

Click here to see the complete report.

Acropolis, Athens, Greece

6th century AD

Basilica di San Vitale, Ravenna, Italy

16th century

Matthias Gruenewald, Die Stuppacher Mdonna

Tiziano: Salome con la testa di S. Giovanni Battista

16th – 17th century

Caravaggio, San Giovanni Battista

18th century

San Francisco Church, Salvador, Bahia, Brasil

Inside the Church of San Francisco in Salvador

19th century

Cezanne, Large Pine and Red Earth

Degas, The Millinery Shop

20th century and beyond

Nolde, Hermit on Tree

Freud's Couch, The Freud Museum, London, England

Helmut Newton

Maria Adair, Instalacao Ambiental

Elaine Roberts, Lotus Flower

Venice - my photo

Anselm Kiefer, Salt of the Earth

Boy - my photo

Thomas Schutte, Efficiency Men

Naoussa, Paros, Greece - my photo

Lefkes, Paros, Greece - my photo

Marpissa, Paros, Greece - my photo

The Earth of Marathon, Attica, Greece - my photo

T.S. Eliot - Four Quartets, East Coker, III

Happy New Year!!!

P.S. This came as a result of rediscovering X’s letter with the extensive quotation from Eliot’s poem “Four Quartets”. The hand written page is hers.

Sunrise of the 26th December 2011

The day of the 26th December 2011 is special. My best man “koumbaros” Manolis celebrates his name day. In addition, it is the anniversary of his wedding to my “koumbara” Marion. As it happens, this year it is the 20th anniversary of their marriage. One more reason to celebrate with a lunch that is a tribute to life and its enjoyment.

The first dish of the menu has a name that resounds with passion: “Besame Mucho”. It is a new creation of my humble personality, invented in the middle of dark winter nights.

Raw Kokoretsi

The first ingredient of the dish is kokoretsi, lamb’s intestines wrapped around liver, heart, and sweetbreads of the lamb.

My butcher prepares them on 30 cm sticks. I bake them after I season them with coarse salt and black pepper.

Cooked kokoretsi

Once baked, I take them off the stick and cut them in small chunks. They are now ready to be served with the second ingredient of the dish, which is lentils.

Lentils - detail

I boil them with a lot of chunks of pickled celery root and leafs, carots, a bit of onion and a bit of garlic.

The first dish: Besame Mucho

I serve the lentils in the middle of the dish, and place the chunks of kokoretsi around it, with some fresh chopped home grown coriander and a few drops of vinegar.

After the enticing experience of “Besame Mucho”, the palate needs a thorough cleaning.

Rucola outside my front door

This is accomplished by the green salad made with lettuce, spring onions, dill, coriander, and home grown rucola.

Ojos Verdes

Add a good olive oil, some lemon, and coarse salt, and you have one of the most refreshing and tasty salads in the world! I name this salad “Ojos Verdes”.

And now to the second dish, as the ojos verdes were an interlude, albeit a very tasty and flavorful one!

This dish is the marriage of roasted piglet and mixed pickled cabbage, white and red, and bears the name “Love me tender, love me sweet”.

Pickled cabbage

I prepare the pickled cabbage at home, and all I do after I Take out of the jar where it has been pickled, is to let it simmer gently for a couple of hours, adding a bit of olive oil.

Roasted Piglet

The piglet is roasted in the oven, with rosemary, coriander and garlic stems. I also add coarse salt and pepper.

Last but not least, the “breads” of the lunch. We had corn bread (in the upper half of the picture) and piroshki made of potatoes (the lower half of the picture).

Both were prepared by a good friend.

There was no room for anything after all this, but only for fresh fruits, apples and tangerines.

Many Happy returns dearest friends, and a Happy New Year to All!!!

Und schwer zu fassen der Gott.

Wo aber Gefahr ist, waechst

Das Retende auch.

Patmos, Friedrich Hoelderlin

God is near

Yet hard to seize.

Where there is danger,

The rescue grows as well.

(translation by Scott Horton)

Ειναι κοντα

Και δυσκολος να τον συλλαβεις ο Θεος.

Ομως εκει που ειναι ο κινδυνος,

Εκει και το σωτηριον φυεται.

(Πατμος, Φρηντριχ Χελντερλιν, Μεταφραση Στελλα Νικολουδη, Εκδοσεις ΑΓΡΑ)

Ὦ φιλτάτη πατρίς,
ὦ θαυμασία νῆσος,
Ζάκυνθε· σὺ μοῦ ἔδωκας
τὴν πνοήν, καὶ τοῦ Ἀπόλλωνος
τὰ χρυσὰ δῶρα!

(Ωδαι, Ανδρεα Καλβου, Ωδη Πρωτη, Ο Φιλοπατρις)

Ohh beloved motherland,

ohh wonderful island,

Zakinthos; you gave me

the breath, and Apollo’s

golden presents!

(Odes, Andreas Calvos, First Ode) 

(my translation)

Μέσα στις θαλασσινές σπηλιές
υπάρχει μια δίψα
υπάρχει μια αγάπη
υπάρχει μια έκσταση

(Γιωργος Σεφερης, Μεσα στις Θαλασσινες Σηλιες) 

Inside the sea caves

there is a thirst

there is a love

there is an ecstasis

(George Seferis, Nobel Laureate, Inside the Sea Caves)

(my translation)

The isles of Greece! the isles of Greece!
Where burning Sappho loved and sung,
Where grew the arts of war and peace,—
Where Delos rose and Phoebus sprung!

(Lord Byron, The Isles of Greece)

Τα νησια της Ελλαδας! Τα νησια της Ελλαδας!

Εκει που η φλεγομενη Σαπφω αγαπησε και τραγουδησε,

Εκει που μεγαλωσαν οι τεχνες του πολεμου και της ειρηνης,

Εκει που αναδυθηκαν η Δηλος και ο Φοιβος!

(Λορδος Βυρων, Τα νησια της Ελλαδας)

(δικη μου μεταφραση) 

Only through the experience of Delos did the journey to Greece became a sojourn, cleared dwelling by that which Αληθεια is.

 Delos itself is that field of unconcealed hiddenness that accords sojourn: first to φυσις, to the pure and self-sheltered rise of mountains and islands, sky and sea, plants and animals, the rise where each thing appears in its strict type but also in its gently suspended form.

In the sojourn granted by αλήθεια the έργον appears as well: everything that is made and built by human work.

In this granted sojourn, the mortals themselves appear and precisely as those who respond to the unconcealed, for they bring to their proper appearance that which becomes present in this or that matter.

(Martin Heidegger, Sojourns: the journey to Greece, translated by John Panteleimon Manoussakis)

In closing, I wish to all a Merry Christmas and a Happy New 2012 Year!

With the Love of Greece!

Κλεινοντας, σημερα, παραμονη Χριστουγεννων 2011 ευχομαι σε ολους Καλα Χριστουγεννα και ευτυχες το νεο Ετος 2012.

Με την Αγαπη της Ελλαδας!

Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera

The painter was born in 1907 in Coyoacan, a borough of the Federal District of Mexico City as Magdalena Carmen Frieda Kahlo y Calderón.

Frida Kahlo with drawn tears - Photo by Guillermo Kahlo, 1932

I started painting twelve years ago while I was recovering from an automobile accident that kept me in bed for nearly a year. In all these years, I’ve always worked with the spontaneous impulse of my feeling. I’ve never followed any school or anybody’s influence; I have never expected anything from my work but the satisfaction I could get from it by the very fact of painting and saying what I couldn’t say otherwise. (Letter to Carlos Chavez, 1939).

Frida Kahlo: Autorretrato con Collar de Espinas y Colibrí" ("Self-Portrait with Thorn Necklace and Humming-bird").

In 1925 Frida has a horrible accident while riding a bus.

The only good thing is that I’m starting to get used to suffering. (Letter to Alejandro Gomez Arias, December 5, 1925).

Frida Kahlo: Frida and Diego Rivera, 1931

A short while ago, maybe a few days ago, I was a girl walking in a world of colors, of clear and tangible shapes. .. If you knew how terrible it is to attain knowledge all of a sudden – like lightning elucidating the earth! Now I live on a painful planet, transparent as ice…I grew old in a few instants and now everything is dull and flat. I know there is nothing behind; if there were something I would see it. (Letter to Alejandro Gomez Arias, September 1926).

Diego Rivera: Man masters the Elements

In 1929 Frida got married to the Mexican painter Diego Rivera. Their marriage hits the rocks quickly, as Diego is irreversibly unfaithfull. In 1934 Diego has an affair with Frida’s sister, Cristina. Frida is devastated.

Frida Kahlo - Photo by Nickolas Muray

First, it is a double disgrace, if I can explain it like that. You know better than anyone what Diego means to me in all senses, and on the other hand, she was the sister whom I loved the most and whom I tried to help as much as I could; that’s why the situation became horribly complicated and it is getting worse every day… My situation seems so ridiculous and stupid to me that you can’t imagine how I dislike and hate myself. I’ve lost my best years being supported by a man, doing nothing but what I thought would benefit and help him. I never thought about myself, and after six years, his answer is that fidelity is a bourgeois virtue and that it exists only to exploit (people) and to obtain an economic gain. (Letter to Ella and Bertram Wolfe, October 18, 1934).

Metropolitan Museum of Art, Mask from Mexico

Even if we experience endless adventures, cracks in the doors, “mentions” of our mothers (the mentioning of one’s mother is considered to be very insulting in Mexico), and international complaints, don’t we always love each other? … All this anger has simply made me understand better that I love you more than my own skin, and that even though you don’t love me as much, you love me a little anyway – don’t you? If this is not true, I’ll always be hopeful that it could be, and that’s enough for me… Love me a little …. I adore you … Frieda (Letter to Diego Rivera, July 1935).

Frida Kahlo - Photo by Vicente Wolf

Diego has also been sick, but now he is almost well. He is working as usual, a lot and well. He is a little fatter; he is eating a lot and is as talkative as usual. He sleeps in the bathtub, reads the newspapers while on the toilet, and spends hours playing wiht Don Fulang Chang (pet monkey), for whom he already found a partner. (Letter to Ella Wolfe, 1938).

Diego Rivera: In the trenches - Photo by Tina Modotti)

Well child, let me thank you for your letter and for being so nice as to ask me about Diego’s shirts. I’m sorry for not being able to give you the sizes you asked for, but no matter how much I look inside the collar, I can’t even find a clue of what could be a number indicating the thickness of Don Diego Rivera y Barriento’s neck. So, I think it would be best to tell Martin to please buy six of the largest shirts that New York has, that is, if this letter gets to you in time, which I doubt very much. Get the kind (of shirts) that seem almost impossible to be made for a person, i.e the largest on this planet, commonly referred to as the Earth. (Letter to Ella Wolfe, 1938).

Frida Kahlo: Two nudes in the forest 1939

Now I will tell you some things about myself. I haven’t changed very much since you saw me last. Only I wear again my crazy mexican dress, my hair grew longer again, and I am as skinny as always. My character hasn’t changed either, I am as lazy as always, without enthusiasm for any thing, quite stupid, and damn sentimental, some times I think that this is bacause I am sick, but of course that is only a very good pretext. I could paint as long as long as I wish, I could read or study or do many things inspite  of my bad foot and other bad things, but, there is the point, I live on the air, accepting things as they come, without the minor effort to change them, and all day long I feel sleepy, tired and desperated. (Letter to Lucienne Bloch, February 1938).

Frida Kahlo: The broekn column 1944

My child, I really should not complain about anything that happens to me in life, so long as you love me and I love you. (This love) is so real and beautiful that it makes me forget even distance. .. I don’t have the words to describe how happy I am, knowing that you tried to make me happy and that you are so good and adorable… My lover, my heaven, my Nick, my life, my child, I adore you. .. Don’t make love to anyone, if you can help it. Do it only in case you find a real F. W. (fucking wonder), but don’t fall in love. .. Oh, my dear Nick, I adore you so much. I need you so much that that my heart burns. (Letter to Nickolas Muray, February 1939).

Excerpt from a Poem to Lina and Arcady Boytler

I am leaving my portrait to you

so you’ll have me in front of you

every day and every night

in which I am far away from you.

Sadness is portrayed

in my whole work,

but that’s my condition;

I am hopeless.

Frida Kahlo, 1941 - Photo by Emmy Lou Packard