Dear Frida
I think of your work and
your life every day.
July 6, 1907-July 13-1954
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
Sometimes intelligible ramblings from a former teacher, publisher, aerospace worker, barmaid, and waitress
What I'm Reading Right Now
- Picasso Trilogy by John Richardson
Followers
Blog Archive
-
▼
2010
(180)
-
▼
July
(18)
- On the Edge
- Pure Joy
- Waiting
- Soul Music
- In a Tangle
- Where Do I Begin
- The Way It Was: 1954
- The Way I Like to Think of Her
- Still Life
- Self-Portrait 1940
- The Suicide of Dorothy Hale
- First and Last
- September 17, 1925: The Bus
- Frida
- Backwards and Forwards
- Beauty, Order, and Purpose
- Some Days
- Looking for Makeup
-
▼
July
(18)
About Me
- smartz
- In my life I've waited tables, raised sons, taught school, published books, and railed at politicians. I'm building a house, next to my son, where I can spend time with my granddaughter. I read, write, and dream about being immortal.
3 comments:
I was 12 years old when Frida died. I don't ever remember talk of Frida Kahlo in our house, although my mother would have been the perfect person to angst and experience joy for her life. Fred
I discovered her when I was at Papier-Mache. One of the authors sent me a manuscript of poetry about women writers. I've always regretted not publishing that work. The author committed suicide about a year later.
i dont like frida horrble book
Post a Comment