Monday, March 7, 2011

Raw Materials

1. crudo(a) (food, silk); sin refinar (sugar); en bruto (statistics)
  • to be raw -> estar crudo(a) (meat, vegetables)
  • raw materials -> materias (f pl) primas
  • raw recruit -> recluta (m) novato
2. agrietado(a) (skin)
  • to get a raw deal (sentido figurado) -> ser tratado(a) injustamente
  • to touch a raw nerve (sentido figurado) -> dar en lo más vivo
3. crudo(a) (weather, wind)

The Artist as a Young Woman

I'm talking about little Frida--she
of la casa azul she
of the unibrow she
of the disappearing leg she
before she was the "ribbon around the bomb."
She was once just a girl rubbing elbows
with revolutionaries she
pre"naive" art. She
not yet the eye of the storm she
not yet ground zero or the trailer house where
the most damage is done she
before she was Mrs. Diego i.e. shadow she
not yet his fuck you very much muse she
not yet a wife yet a lover to many. She
before she was an accident she
not yet the broken one she
when the womb might still hold she
pre bed ridden she
when mirrors weren't a friend she
who might have wielded a scalpel
instead of a brush she
who could swim in colorful skirts
not to hide her uneven legs but because
they were pretty. This was before she
parted her hair perfectly before she
sprouted flowers before she
courted parrots and black cats
of skulls and ripe fruit. This was before she
was the hunted the easy prey when she
wore her heart inside her blouse when she
hadn't yet cultivated a green thumb,
the ability to groomed jungles. I mean she
who painted monkeys which were not symbols
of lust but merely cute she
who drew stick trees and unicorns like
any other she. This was before the perpetual
self portrait before the ball and chain
before chasing the pain. This was youth
before she had five rings if we gauge a life
the way we measure a tree's growth. The she
not a half century, almost. She at life's entrance
and not in the end writing in a diary
hoping the exit was joyful. I mean she
who was too young to hope she'd never return.
I mean the she whose mouth
would be too small for too many pills.
I mean the she whose bed was messy
and filled with dreams still and not
whose death bed became
a tourist attraction.



  1. What a wonderful tribute to Frida Kahlo. I always hoped that somewhere in her life she was happy and fulfilled. Perhaps she was but in her paintings always spoke to me of the love she could give but never receive.

  2. I agree with Old Egg, a great tribute to one of my favourite 'naivist' painters. A troubled life, but a wonderful, expressive artist.

  3. Especially timely musing for me as I just finished a book in which she was one of the main characters. She was quite colorful and complex and you did a nice job of capturing that.

  4. Wow - I am not sure how to justify this piece with a comment but 'raw' appreciation..admiration..protectiveness towards this woman..absolutely magnificent..Jae