Recently, I have been obsessed with feminist art. It is said that the capitalized art history basically excludes female artists. This situation has improved slightly in the 20th century, because the restrictions on the subject matter and other aspects are not so clear. The history of art can be seen in the work of many wonderful women artists.
Frida Kahlo was born in the early 20th century, her father was a portrait painter, and the beginning of her artistic career was undoubtedly influenced by her father. It is not unusual, but almost all women who have left a name in art history (as an artist rather than an artist's model or lover) are almost linked to the name of the man around them, no matter who has influenced who, just like a giant wing. A small patch of shade. Who makes who take off? Who will cover whom? Few female artists can stand up an independent sky without the influence of the men around them. Some of them are women who are willing to be the women behind men, and the other part is obscured by the prejudice of artistic power, such as Lee Krasner and Pollock, Camille to Rodin.
Frida's paintings have the ability to impress anyone who has seen them, her eyebrows, her monkeys, her Mexican costumes, her long hair that fell on the floor, her blood dripping countless bullets shot at her. The arrow, her unfinished mother's dream, her burning bed... The Blue House that gave birth to her legend, two accidents in her life, a car accident, and Diegoc. The marriage of an elephant and a dove...
She was born in reality but penetrated it to create an alternate planet full of symbols and surrealism. On the real planet, she is in pain everywhere. Although her body and her loving heart have been tortured time and time again, she is still full of passion in a ceremonial costume, and walks the road that few people take with a sly smile. As Diego Rivera said, her work is ironic and tender, with the hardness of steel and the freedom of butterfly wings, as moving as a smile, as tragic as the suffering in life...
Frida became a legend because she believed in it . As if Chagall lived forever in his beautiful village, what you believe, you become.
On such a night, listening to Berlioz's "Symphony of Fantasy", thinking about the encounter between the dove and the elephant in the movie, she watched him come down from the scaffolding of the mural and walked towards her. Love really begins with dreams and passion. .
Even a female artist finds it unbearable to love an unfaithful husband, she sympathizes with his ex-wife and sympathizes with herself, but fortunately those sad songs are transformed into great works of art, men think I just stabbed a few times in my lover's heart, but her blood has already splashed on the frame...
This husband has made an absolute excuse. My doctor told me that my physical condition determines that I cannot be loyal For a woman...
even if there is such an agreement before marriage, the betrayal of everything after that will still hurt, in any case, most people will have some kind of fantasy about their love and the object of love, thinking that it is a miracle will happen to yourself.
I still love that boyish Frida, I like her drunken tango at the dance, the so-called upside down life, in my opinion, is a very feminine woman with a little boyish naughty, a very There is a little girlish shyness about the males.
I imagine that all the fantasy and passionate love will stop in the chapter of the field scenery, and count the guillotine march as a part of the night dream. In the most painful time, if it is unbearable, just try to open your eyes. If you can really enjoy the deepest pain, close your eyes.
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