torsdag 30. april 2009

Frida Kahlo: my 100th entry

This is the english version of my exam assignment of Frida Kahlo, based on the question of how the happenings in her life influenced her art work.

Magdalena Carmen Frida Kahlo y Calderón (06.07.1907 - 13.06.1954) was a famous Mexican painter, better known as Frida Kahlo. To this day Kahlo remains to be a cult phenomenon and her paintings symbols of Mexican life, particularly during the period of the Mexican revolution. Her art style is characterized as nationalistic and surrealistic due to her use of vibrant colors influenced by the indigenous colors. Above all, her paintings expressed her life, and how she perceived the experiences she went through during her 47-year old life. Kahlo is perhaps most known for her self-portraits, which bore marks of both her sexuality as well as her pain. Pain is a central part of Kahlo’s life, both physically and psychologically. In this assignment I will try to write about how the different challenges in Kahlo’s life influenced her art work. I feel it is necessary to narrate bits o her life story in order explain her art expression, because they are very much entwined.

Kalho described her adolescence as happy. She grew up in a house her father built, called “La Casa Azul”, a bit outside of Mexico DF. Kahlo grew up with three sisters, Adriana, Matilde and Cristina, and her parents Guillermo and Matilde Kahlo. According to Kahlo she was the daughter her father felt he could identify the most with. In the biography “Frida” by Hayden Herrera, their relationship was based on the common fascination of art and culture. Frida has described herself being her father’s replacement from his disappointment of never having a son. Kahlo showed from an early age interest in creative art and literature, which was encouraged by her father. He exposed her to the art of photography and brought her on trips in the country to explore the rich natural life.

Family photo
Meanwhile, Kahlo’s happy childhood faced a big downhill when she was infected by the Polio-virus at age six. This bone-disease contributed to Kahlo’s spinal development, which led to that her left leg remained thinner than the right leg during her entire life. Kahlo dealt with this by wearing long, colorful outfits, always sure to cover her small handicap.

“But she was a hurt bird. And because she was hurt, she was different than other children, and often lonely. At the age she should have explored the world outside the family and make friends, she was forced to stay at home. When she became healty and started school again, she was teased and kept outside” (Herrera).

In 1922 Kahlo enrolled at “la Escuela Nacional Preparatoria“ to prosecute their studies toward medicine. She was in a circle of friends composed by promising intellectuals, whom devoted their time to reading contemporary European literature and exchanged opinions about the political situation at the time. During this period the Mexican revolution was coming to an end, but there were still cases of rebellious outbreaks raging in the streets of the capital. It is said that Matilde Kahlo would from time to time hide rebels in the blue house as the military were chasing them in the streets of Coyoatán. Frida would open the windows to let them in to safety.

Her first encounter with the man that was going to become the most important influence her life was at La Preparatoria. She was a teen when she spied at the famous painter Diego Rivera who was working on painting “la Creacion” in the school’s aula. Rivera was known as a notorious womanizer, and the women who posed for him were said to “risk their bodies as much to his physical enjoyment as well as to his eyes”. Frida and her friends witnessed a similar incident as they were spying on him. At the time, Rivera was still married to Lupe Marín. Frida got up on her feet and shouted: “On Guard, Diego, here comes Lupe!” and ran away.

The accident
An afternoon in September 1925, 16-year old Frida found herself in a terrible traffic accident. She was on a public bus with her current boyfriend, Alejandro Gomez Arias, when a tram collided with the wooden bus. There had been a man on the bus who carried golden dust with him. At the impact, the gold spread out in the air and landed on Frida. She was lying on what was left of the platform of the truck, naked, covered in blood and gold. Alejandro, who had only suffered minor injuries, discovered to his dread that a huge iron piece had pierced Frida’s body. The spear-shaped piece had entered her hip and went straight through to her vagina. Alejandro carried her out, and another man pulled the spear out. Her scream made the sirens seem like vague background noise. The accident would affect Frida’s future life severely.

Frida spent one month in the Red Cross hospital before she was allowed to return home to her family in the blue house. She had suffered broken ribs, a broken collarbone, a destroyed right leg, and her spine had broken in three different places. The iron spear had left her with reduced reproductive abilities.
Months of painful and expensive recovery followed. Her body required to be swept in gypsum, which left her lying in her bed for several months. It was during this period of immobilization that Kahlo seriously started experimenting with painting. Her parents provided a special designed staffali to occupy her time. Much of the misery Kahlo felt during this time was due to the isolation and loneliness that the state put her in. Frida expressed her strong feelings through her paintings. She once said: “I paint what I see, that's all I know."

Being stronger after the restitution, Frida went to seek the 41-year old Diego Rivera to consult him with some of her artwork. She admired his work and she wanted his honest opinion of her paintings. She was daring enough to ask him to come down from his scaffold to criticize her paintings. Dazzled by her boldness he obeyed. She told him straight away: “If I'm not good enough, I have to do something else to help my parents.” In Rivera’s biography “My Art, My Life”, the artist reminisces: "They were all three portraits of women. As I looked at them, one by one, I was immediately impressed.” A week later, Rivera visited La Casa Azul to evaluate some more of her paintings. Rivera quickly took Frida under his wings and introduced her to the elite of intellectuals in Mexican at the time. The two of them soon developed a relationship. One day her father took Rivera aside. “I see you are interested in my daughter, no?” “Yes, if I was not I would not have come all the way here to Coyoacán to meet her,” Rivera replied. “She is a devil”, he said. “Yes I know”. “Good, then you are warned,” he said and left.

Together they made a funny couple; he being old and big and she young and small. Nonetheless they married in 1929, when Kahlo was 22 and he was 43. They had a small ceremony with three witnesses, followed by a big fiesta with their nearest friends in la Casa Azul.
Diego and Frida.
Even though Diego was undeniably quite unattractive, he attracted women like flowers stretches to the sun. It was his personality that drew them to him. He had a sensational humor, was lively and charming, as well as tender, warm and sensual. On top of this, fame has a tendency to attract women. Especially did a certain type of young American women seem to fall for him; as written in Herrara’s biography: “(…) they considered an affair with Diego Rivera as just as a big ‘must’ as a trip to the pyramids of the Teotihuacán.” Moreover, Rivera represented a different approach to woman, on the contrary to the macho-attitude at the time. He enjoyed the company of women, listened to them and appreciated their thoughts, which was rare for women to experience (at the time). His appetite for women’s bodies was also highly present throughout his entire life. Perhaps did Frida think she was the one to capture his love? His ex-wife Lupe Marín, who Frida befriended, once told her that: “Diego does not belong to anyone.”

Frida seemed to tolerate his occasional unfaithfulness, as long as he promised to be loyal to her. Frida too had a few love affairs, also including woman. One of these was to the revolutionary communist Leo Trotsky. It was not until Frida caught Diego sleeping with her younger sister Cristina, she really had had it. In the motion picture “Frida” (2002), Salma Hayek in the role of Kahlo, confronts Rivera saying: “I had two big accidents in my life Diego, the trolley and you... You are by far the worse.” In the movie Rivera replies: “It was just a fuck. I've given more affection in a handshake.”

The movie shows the main altering happenings in their stormy relationship. As mentioned above, Kahlo’s physical pain lay in the accident, whereas the psychological pain she experienced had a lot to do with the relationship to Rivera. The couple divorced in 1039, but remarried the following year. Although her inner pain is a strong factor for all her artwork, Kahlo did not show her depressive sides to the world trough her persona. In times of sickness, she tried to appear bright, made jokes and smiled. She did not want to be a burden to her family when she was sick after the accident.

Ever since Kahlo and Rivera became married, Kahlo wished to become a mother. Rivera, on the other hand, already had two children with Lupe Marín and probably two other on the side. Diego’s priorities were first of all this art, then Frida, which would leave a child in third place. In 1930 the newlyweds went to America due to the numerous fresco-assignments Rivera had undertaken there. The couple left for San Francisco and one year later, for New York and Detroit. Kahlo did not like the American life, and found the people both superficial, and the landscape depressing.

Two years into the stay, Kahlo became pregnant. The doctors warned her about the risks this included due to her poor health. But Kahlo was determined to give birth, maybe because she was convinced that giving birth to Rivera’s child would give her a tighter grip around him. Sadly, she experienced a devastating miscarriage 3 ½ months along. She stayed in the hospital for 13 days after the miscarriage. During that time she made two pencil drawings. They are more surrealistic than her previous works, and show a sleeping Frida on a bed, surrounded by curious creatures that represent her dreams, or perhaps the ephemeral sights she had under the narcosis.
Later in her life she had three more miscarriages. It is not foolish to assume that this grief influenced many of her paintings. She preserved a foster in a glass of formaldehyde in her bedroom, and also collected different types of dolls. She also housed numerous pets, including dogs, cats, monkeys, parrots, an eagle, and a deer! When the dolls or the animals would appear in her paintings, critics have speculated if they functioned as a replacement for children.

"My Birth"

Kahlo longed for Mexico, but the return would not be under joyful conditions. Her mother had become ill, and Kahlo and Rivera returned to Mexico. One week later Matilde Kahlo died. On top of this, soon after arriving home, Rivera had an affair with Kahlo’s younger sister, Cristina. The betrayal of trust affected Kahlo hard. In 1939 they filed for divorce, but remarried the following year.

During most of her adult life, Kahlo had been known to the world as the charismatic wife of Diego Rivera. It was not until in the 1980’s that Kahlo’s paintings were recognized. This happened because the artistic movement called “neomexicanismo” reached high popularity. This movement appreciated the values of contemporary Mexican culture.

By 1950 Kahlo’s health was worsening. Rivera remained by her side and their love endured. In 1954, shortly before Kahlo passed away, she wrote the following fraise in her notes: "I hope the exit is joyful - and I hope never to return - Frida". She never did return, but who knows? Her art will always keep her alive and remind us of her existence.

Earlier this year I visited La Casa Azul at the corner of Calle Londres and Calle Allende. The house now bears the name “Museo Frida Kahlo” at the entrance. It is a woman’s home, with her paintings and belongings, transformed to a museum. The entrance is guarded two giant figures, which looks as though they are in the middle of a conversation. Then you enter a garden with tropical plants and a little pyramid with God images of pre-Columbian time. Over the patio it says “Frida and Diego vivieron en esta casa 1929-1954.” I walked through the house and observed how the surroundings had been composed to the smallest decorative detail. As I read a note Frida had written to Diego on her worktable, it hit me how present they seemed to be. It was as though Frida had just left her pen and was out for a walk.

tirsdag 28. april 2009

just cus ur paranoid doesn't mean they're not after u

things are looking up
its funny how little it takes
for my mood to raise
i jumped on a bus to my home town
i needed to get away from the city for a bit
i sometimes forget how beautiful the country is
the fields are evergreen
and the sun is shining
and its so quiet

and of course, my mom makes the best food. i love her.

fredag 24. april 2009

I look a little bit older, I look a little bit colder

The Killers - When You Were Young
You sit there in your heartache
Waiting on some beautiful boy
To to save your from your old ways
You play forgiveness
Watch it now- here he comes

He doesn't look a thing like Jesus
But he talks like a gentlemen
Like you imagined when you were young

Can we climb this mountain
I don't know
Higher now than ever before
I know we can make it if we take it slow
Let's take it easy
Easy now, watch it go

We're burning down the highway skyline
On the back of a hurricane that started turning
When you were young
When you were young

And sometimes you close your eyes and see the place where you Used to live
When you were young

They say the devil's water, it ain't so sweet
You don't have to drink right now
But you can dip your feet
Every once in a little while

You sit there in your heartache
Waiting on some beautiful boy
To save you from your old ways
You play forgiveness
Watch it now here he comes

He doesn't look a thing like Jesus
But he talks like a gentlemen
Like you imagined when you were young
When you were young

I said he doesn't look a thing like Jesus
He doesn't look a thing like Jesus
But more than you'll ever know

mandag 20. april 2009

den røde armés selsomme vennskap

jeg blør i 7 dager i strekk, jeg - har jeg fortalt det? du hadde antageligvis ikke en overveldende trang til å vite akkurat dette om meg, men der har du det; servert på et fat. og siden jeg ikke stapper i meg untaurlige piller som fucker opp hormonene dine (de har jeg nok av, takk), har jeg ikke det conveniente valget å hoppe over denne røde uka. så jeg har ikke annet valg en motvillig åpne døren for min dårlige kompis, "Mensblodet" (han har ikke særlig god humor).

for dere menn eller andre intetanende vil jeg berette litt om hvordan det er å være et østrogenprodukt av homo sapiens i menustrasjonsperioden. noen sier damene bør gå i hi denne perioden i måneden, grunnet det fryktelige humøret. idiotiske kommentarer som "har du meeensen, eller?" er ikke sjeldent å høre..., men for å understreke det én gang for alle: man blir ikke grumpy av å HA mensen; det er PMS'en som fremkaller dette ("Premenstrual Syndrome", din brødskalle). men kún ca. 3% av alle kvinner viser sterke symptomer av dette fenomenet. - så om dama er sur, er det sannsynligvis ikke pga. 'meeeensen' (humøret heves sannsynligvis heller ikke ved slike kommentarer).

ikke for å gå rundt grøten her, når alt kommer til alt handler det om fruktbarhet, eller å være i stand til å reprodusere seg selv. det begynner 28 dager senere; syklusen altså. i forveien forekommer som regel krampetrekninger nederst i mageregionen, noe som ikke er videre behagelig (les: paracet/ibux nødvendig). her forbereder altså kroppen seg på å løsne et modent egg (kjønnscelle) fra eggstokkene under eggløsningen. og forutsett at man ikke er blitt smelt på tjukka, vandrer det ubefruktede egget videre ned gangen med kompisen "Mensblodet".

"Mensblodet" kan sammenlignes med en drug dealer, sett fra en rusavhengigs ståsted. du setter ikke nødvendigvis pris på vennskapet deres, men du er likevel avhengig av at han stikker innom med den måndlige dosen. Det er litt som "can't live with him, can't live without him." han liker forøvrig å dukke opp på de mest upassende tidspunkt., som da du f.eks. skal til syden og bade, eller kunne tenkt deg å hoppe i høyet. han er ikke særlig supporter av slike kavalkader.

denne litt uønskede kompisen dropper innom en gang i måneden fra dere blir kjent (11-16 år) til "you hit menopause" (i 50-åra). så visst man da opprettholder dette delikate vennskapet i nærmere 40 år, med besøk 6 dager i uka, tilsier noen kjappe tastetrykk på kalkisen at man da blør i gjennomsnitt 3360 dager (altså mer enn 9 år av livet ditt)! og da det går unna ca. to tampongpakker hvert besøk, til tja, 20 kroner hver, blir dette ca. 480 kroner i året. dette er grunnleggende utgifter som ikke kan velges bort. jeg mener den norske stat burde legge ut slik at sanitetsbind/tamponger blir gratis. dersom man betaler 480 kroner i 40 år, tja... you do the math. "ei kroner her og ei kroner der", my ass...

men jeg skal ikke klage overbærende mye. det er ikke synd i meg, de resterende kvinnene i verden utsettes for de samme plagene som jeg må gjennomgå. jeg får bare være glad til at jeg faktisk har råd til tamponger (og ikke må bruke blader, slik som de gjorde i steinalderen), og kan koble til varmebeltet når smertene setter inn.

ps. dette blogginnlegget gjør meg ikke til en feminist. (det uttrykket er dessuten alt for flyktig til å defineres for tiden). jeg er bare forbanna.

i want the ocean right now

Tegan and Sara - So Jealous

torsdag 16. april 2009

"No hay nadie como tú"

Calle 13 & Cafe Tacvba

me encanta esta canción! esta cancion habla sobre todas las cosas de nuestro mundo.
no te precopes el chico en el video...el video no es el original. pues bajo hay los lyricos:

En el mundo hay gente bruta y astuta,
hay vírgenes y prostitutas.
Ricos, pobres, clase media,
cosas bonitas y un par de tragedias.
Hay personas gordas, medianas y flacas,
caballos, gallinas, ovejas y vacas.
Hay muchos animales con mucha gente,
personas cuerdas y locos demente.
En el mundo hay mentiras y falsedades,
hechos, verdades y casualidades,
hay mentalidades horizontales, verticales y diagonales.
Derrotas y fracasos accidentales,
medallas, trofeos y copas mundiales.
En el mundo hay vitaminas y proteínas,
marihuana, éxstasis y cocaína.
Hay árboles, ramas, hojas y flores,
hay muchas montañas de colores.
En el mundo hay decisiones divididas,
entradas, salidas, debut, despedidas.
Hay inocentes, hay homicidas,
hay muchas bocas y poca comida.
Hay gobernantes y presidentes,
hay agua fría y agua caliente.
En el mundo hay micrófonos y altoparlantes,
hay seis mil millones de habitantes.
Hay gente ordinaria y gente elegante,
pero, pero, pero...

CORO x2:
No hay nadie como tú
no hay nadie como tú mi amor,
No hay nadie como tú.

En el mundo siempre se mueve la tierra,
hay tanques de oxígeno, tanques de guerras.
El sol y la luna nos dan energía,
se duerme de noche y se vive de día.
Hay gente que rectifica lo que dice,
hay mucha gente que se contradice.
Hay algarrobas y alga marinas,
hay vegetarianos y carnicerías.
Hay tragos amargos y golosinas,
hay enfermedades y medicinas.
Hay bolsillos llenos, carteras vacías,
hay más ladrones que policías.
hay religiones, hay ateísmo,
hay capitalismo y comunismo.
Aunque nos parecemos no somos los mismos,
porque, porque...

CORO x2:
No hay nadie como tú
no hay nadie como tú mi amor,
No hay nadie como tú.

En el mundo existen muy buenas ideas,
hay Don Quijotes y Dulcineas.
Hay sexo en el baño, sexo en la cama,
sexo sin ropa, sexo en pijama.
Hay cosas reales y melodramas,
hay laberintos y crucigramas.
Existen llamadas que nadie contesta,
hay muchas preguntas y pocas respuestas.
Hay gente valiente, gente con miedo,
gente que el mundo no le importa un bledo.
Gente parada, gente sentada,
gente soñando, gente despertando.
Hay gente que nace, gente que muere,
Hay gente que odia y gente que quiere.
En este mundo hay mucha gente,
pero, pero, pero...

CORO x7:
No hay nadie como tú
no hay nadie como tú mi amor,
No hay nadie como tú.

English translation (translated on

In the world there is brutal and rough people,
there is virgins and prostitutes.
Rich, poor, average class,
pretty things and a pair of tragedies.
There are thin, medium, and fat people,
horses, chickens, sheep and cows.
There are many animals with many people,
people cords and demented lunatics.
In the world there are lies and falsehoods,
facts, truths and coincidences,
there are vertical, horizontal mentalities and diagonals.
You defeat and accidental failures, medals, trophies and world cups.
In the world there are vitamins and proteins,
marijuana, ecstasy and cocaine.
There are trees, branches, leaves and flowers,
there are many mountains of colors.
In the world there are decisions divided,
entrances, exits, débuts, farewells.
There are innocent, there is murderers,
there are many mouths and little food.
There are rulers and presidents,
there is cold water and hot water.
In the world there are microphones and loudspeakers,
there are six billion inhabitants.
There is ordinary people and elegant people, but, but, but... CHORUS x2:
There is not nobody as you there is not nobody like you my love,
there is not nobody as you.

In the world always moves the land,
there are tanks of oxygen, tanks of wars.
The sun and the moon give us energy, sleeps at night and lives on itself day.
There is people that rectifies what says,
there is many people that is contradicted.
There are carobs and marine alga,
there is vegetarians and meat markets
There are bitter pills and delicacies,
there are illnesses and medicines.
There are full pockets, empty accounts receivable,
there are more thieves than police officers.
There are religions, there is atheism there is capitalism and communism.
Although we seem we are not the same, because, because CHORUS x2:
There is not nobody as you there is not nobody like you my love, there is not nobody as you.

In the world very good ideas exist, there is Mr. Quijotes and Dulcineas.
There is sex in the bath, sex in the bed, sex without clothes, sex in pajamas.
There are real things and melodramas,
there are labyrinthes and crosswords.
Calls exist that nobody answers,
there are many questions and few answers.
There is brave people, people with fear,
people that the world does not import him a bledo
People stop, seated people, people dreaming, people awaking.
There is people that is born, people.,.... that dies, there is people that hates and people that wants.
In this world there is many people, but, but, but... CHORUS x7:
There is not nobody as you there is not nobody like you my love, there is not nobody as you.

Un canción buenísimo! <3

onsdag 15. april 2009

back on track

my blog has been unacessable for me since easter., some password shit that unabled me to enter my own blog. but now it all resolved itself by a magic touch, which im happy about. ive been thinking abit about what i would write when i got my blog back, and i have a sentece for you...or a question, if you will...
-"Is it possible to (actually) miss someone that you've only known for a short period of time?"
I ask this question to the world, not knowing if i confuse loss with longing for a time that was (a time with no worries) together with a certain someone, or if it is longing after the person propio. i dont know if this makes any sense... but i do feel loss. and i like feeling sorry for myself, i always have.

Oh Laura - "Release Me"
a song about longing. Listen to the lyrics...
"I am a glas of water longing for the ocean". It's so damn beautiful. You have to listen to the whole song, and hear when her voice almost crack during the course (ca. at 2:25). Those sweds never stop to amaze me.

moreover i read something i found outmost interesting today, in connection with the latin american term of "marianismo", which is the opposite of machismo. I read this wikipedia definition of the so-called "Madonna-whore complex", and after reading this id like to define myself as a supporter of Freudian psychoanalysis. Its very true; I've seen it.

mandag 6. april 2009

back home

i must apologize for the last post. i was clearly quite drunk and must insist that i am able to write better poems than that. so there.

ive been journaling alot while in mexico. a month of travelling and crazy stories easily fills up the pages. and some of the stuff that has gone down is simply not suitable for the world wide web. you will never truly know how this trip influenced me, and thats okay - you're not meant to. this trip was something i did for me.

meanwhile, i can agree to write down a couple of words that kinda makes a picture of martine in mexico:
puerto escondido
creepy massage on beach
beach volley in sunset
night swimming
good kiss in stairway
impossible fonic assignment due stress
barra de la cruz
san cristobal
julia reunion
agua azul tropic
tulum, cabana by the beach
playa del carmen
isla mujeres - island of women
but too many guys
skydiving in playa
cancun alone
lost passport
found passport
flew to mex city
lost tourist card
went to police station to get a rapport
bought a new card
flight delayed to london
waited in london 1/2 day
arrived oslo
missed flight to bergen
and the rest is details.