Yesterday I went on a longer fabulous trail run in the Marin Headlands and it was fabulous! I experienced several minutes of runner nirvana whilst barrelling down the Miwok Trail through the clouds/wind/mist/fog almost completely unable to stop.
Then I headed over to meet a buddy @ SF MOMA to see the Frida Kahlo exhibit. It was fabulous! We both did love the MOMA-website-featured Self-Portrait with Thorn Necklace and Hummingbird (Autorretrato con collar de espinas y colibrí), 1940 but other things seriously caught my eye...
The look of fear/vulnerability in the picture she called Ugly Self-Portrait.... The racey/extraordinary/wonderful nature of the 1933 tone of the My Nurse and I, the way she potrayed her mother as the proud matriach... even down to the sleeves on her costume as she leered out from the painting @ you.
What kills me is the way she saw herself. She was strikingly beautiful... yet in all of her self potraits what we see is an ever-present hint of a moustache that almost didn't even exist in real laugh and super-exaggerated eye brows. And then we see her partner... Diego Rivera.
Diego who she most surely probably thought was quite attractive. I don't find him attractive in the slightest. But she most certainly must have thought he was. This man's extraordinary artistic talent transformed his physical appearance in her eyes... And her lack of respect for herself also transformed her version of her own physical appearance in the opposite manner.
Now *that's* deep.
I'll stop there in order to allow you to reflect on that. It's a brain full.