Showing posts with label Gulf of Mexico. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gulf of Mexico. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

A Portrait of Love – Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera

Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera photograph by Carlo Van Vechten

The girls here on the blog often give me a hard time about my soppy, romantic tendencies and truth be told, I can’t deny it. I’m a sucker for a good love story – the more tragic, the better. That’s probably why I like to make the poor characters in my books suffer heartbreak at every turn. This works great in fiction, but not so wonderful when it’s real life. Sometimes, though, out of tragedy and suffering, great things can grow.

Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera go down in my books as a couple who left an indelible imprint on history. Born in 1907, Frida suffered from polio, and even though she lived, the disease left her with a withered leg that she always kept covered. In an effort to help his young daughter heal, Frida’s father gave her some paints, thus began a journey that would take many twists and turns.

At the age of eighteen, Frida boarded a bus with her then-boyfriend, Alejandro Gómez Arias. They’d planned to travel to her home on Coyocán, Mexico, but the bus had an accident with an electric trolley car, throwing bodies in every direction. Alejandro found Frida with a pole sticking out of her torso, and she was hospitalised with a myriad of injuries. Her dream of becoming a doctor disappeared and instead, she was left with more physical challenges. The only solace she found from the physical and emotional pain was through her painting.

One of Frida's fascinating paintings
Frida first met Diego Rivera when she was a student at an exclusive prep school in Mexico City. Twenty years her senior, Rivera had been employed to paint the school auditorium. Frida fell in with a crowd who loved to play pranks, so she became involved with soaping stairs for Rivera to fall on and popping water balloons over his head. Rivera and Frida had yet to discover their true destiny.

Alejandro went off the scene after the accident, and years later, Frida met Rivera again. Frustrated with her work, she asked his truthful opinion about her painting. Rivera replied, “Keep it up, little girl.” She invited him to her house to show more work, and this is when they realised they had more in common that just painting. When Frida was 22 and Rivera 42, they married. Frida’s mother disapproved of the tall, well-padded Rivera, and therefore didn’t attend the wedding.

The couple moved into a house shared by communists and not long after Frida became pregnant, but couldn’t go through with it as her life was at risk because of all her earlier physical complications. Later, Frida expressed her disappointment with her inability to have children through her paintings, with themes of childbirth, blood, and fertility.

She and Diego moved to the United States in 1930, and Frida fell under Rivera’s shadow. She played the “good housewife” while he lapped up the attention, and she suffered through his many extramarital affairs, including one with her own sister, Cristina. In 1933, the couple returned to Mexico, and during this time, they both had extramarital affairs. Kahlo had many lovers, both male and female, including Leon Trotsky. Her romance with him inspired her to pursue her painting on a larger scale, and by 1938, Frida’s work who traveled to New York, where she finally gained the recognition she’d craved.

In 1940, Frida and Rivera finally divorced and it was during this time, she produced some of her most renowned work. Turning to themes of death and religious symbolism, Frida cemented her position among the Surrealists.

Photo by Patrice Raunet Hollywood Mural by Siner
The last ten years of her life were more tranquil, all the romantic heartache and rejection behind her. She taught at La Esmeralda, an art institute in Mexico. As her failing health took its toll, Frida set up her easel while she was in hospital, and continued painting. In 1950, she and Rivera remarried (yes, they did!), and in 1953, she exhibited her work for the first time in Mexico.  

In 1957, Frida Kahlo passed away, leaving a legacy of artwork that has been respected and admired for decades. The ups and down of her romance with Diego Rivera no doubt influenced her work, and it would be interesting to know what she would have produced (if anything) had her life been a Mills and Boon or Harlequin romance. I doubt we’d have such evocative and memorable paintings as we do now.

So there you have it. Sometimes out of great tragedy, comes something very special – the works of Frida Kahlo.

Thursday, April 21, 2011

Black Liquid Gold


Last April, a catastrophic rig explosion killed 11 workers and caused a massive oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico that reached as far as Louisiana’s shrimp farms. Years earlier, I read that oil industry giants used little kids as refinery pipe chimney sweeps, only the temperature inside was so high, the fumes often caught on fire and burned them alive. Then the managers sent more kids to haul the bodies out. All the while, we forgot to turn our living room lights off for the night and burned more energy. I never found out whether it was true or not, but the image has haunted me since.

Humanity can’t live without fossil fuel, but perhaps we can make it more humanely. The smell of an oil refinery always gives me a strange, eerie feeling because the petroleum-infused air reeks of decay.

Here's my tribute to the one of the most destructive inventions of mankind: Black Liquid Gold. (The artwork is courtesy of All Posters.)

Ode to Black Liquid Gold
  
Black Liquid Gold
Thousands years old
For the high price
Bought and sold
 
For the high price
Of human lives
Black Liquid gold
Down below lies

Deep beneath the earth
Billions worth
Black Liquid Gold
Waits to be unearthed

Black Liquid Gold
Hides away from thieves
For the price of trees
And softly rustling leaves


For the price of elks,
Coyotes and gazelles
On the defaced land
Pop-up tents and wells
 
Thieves come in quick
On planes and ships
Hunters for the Gold  
Have to dig it deep
 
They leave behind
Scorched hills and sides,
People with not much more
Then their right to die
    
Black Liquid Gold
Silky, smooth, and sleek,
Yields to the strong
Zaps in the weak
 
Black Liquid Gold
Likes claiming lives
Human sacrifices
And high-power crimes
 
For the sake of pipes
Rising to the skies
Spitting out black soot
Stifling the sunrise
 
Boys with brown eyes
Will clean up the pipes
Sometimes they catch on fire
But they come in vast supply
 
So that Gods and Kings
Can make tins and pins
Fly their planes
Float submarines
 
Drive Jaguars
Nominate stars
Light up Christmas trees
Light up their cigars
 
Lighten up the night
Inside and outside
Make the very light
That’s keeping this screen bright...