How’d You Get Here?

This part weekend, I unexpectedly came across two of Frieda Kahlo’s self-portraits on display at an art show in our small town. One is pictured below. The other was a watercolour with pink flowers in her hair. The two became intertwined in the poem below, as my reaction became more important to me here than distinguishing between them.


All photo credit to Beaverlodge Area Cultural Society

Seeing a Frieda Kahlo –

All at once, there it is

Made with her own hand.

In my small Alberta town

I didn’t know I’d find this here 

“Faces,” – the name of the exhibition

But Frieda’s face? 

Yes, and two times over. 

She stares at me,

Her chin straight

Pink flowers wound through her hair,

A woman of substance

Who faced pain, who explored her “imperfections”

(As we all do)

And found alignment with her true self

(Not as we all do) 

It’s 35 below – that’s celsius

And the gallery is empty,

But for the volunteer host

And my mom, on the phone

I didn’t know I’d find this here 

“Faces,” – the name of the exhibition

But Frieda’s face? 

Yes, and two times over. 

And I sink to my knees to really take it in

To be level

Eye-to-eye

Shivers.

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