our queer elders
frida kahlo
“she didn’t make love to me that time, I think on account of her weakness. too bad.”
—f.k. about g.o., in a letter dated 11 april 1933
frida kahlo (1907-1954) was a mexican painter, famed for her portrait and surrealist works. frida’s childhood and young adulthood was rife with physical challenges: at six, polio isolated her from her family and left one leg smaller and shorter than the other; at eighteen, a bus accident left her in pain for the rest of her life. while recovering from her accident, frida began to paint. frida had a tumultuous relationship with fellow painter diego rivera, and both had several affairs.
frida met georgia o’keeffe (1887-1986) in 1931 at diego rivera’s exhibition opening at new york’s museum of modern art. both husbands (georgia’s marriage to alfred stieglitz was also tumultuous) remarked at how well their wives hit it off. while no letters from georgia to frida exist, in a letter from 1933, frida writes to georgia after she had been hospitalized: “I thought of you a lot and never forget your wonderful hands and the color of your eyes ... I would be so happy if you could write me even two words. I like you very much georgia.”
frida kahlo, photo by bettmann
about the song
georgia and frida, photos by stieglitz and cunningham
some scholars suggest that the jack-in-the-pulpit flowers in frida’s 1932 painting, “self portrait along the boarder line between mexico and the united states,” are a nod to georgia o’keeffe’s jack-in-the-pulpit series from 1930, especially since jack-in-the-pulpits were not common in mexico. this song takes the small snippets we have from frida’s letters and imagines what their inspiration might have been like.
paint me in
I'll never forget your hands on the canvas of my spine
the colors of santa fe aren't that different from mine
jack in the pulpit love a study of the smaller things
you hold it in your hands and give it to me
paint me in, paint me in
in desert dreams paint me in
paint me in
I'll never forget your eyes blue as the sky in Coyoacán
they sparkle in these city lights brighter than stars
it was 1931 in a modern form of reverie
I hold it in my heart, a memory
paint me in, paint me in
with buds and bones paint me in
paint me in
take something small and paint it big
roots and petals with a deeper meaning
folds in paper, sheets, and skin
a landscape I'd never dream of leaving
paint me in, paint me in
with desert dreams paint me in
paint me in, paint me in
with buds and bones
paint me in
paint me in
I love you more than my own skin
paint me in
k.a.castagno 2022
recommended reading
frida in america: the creative awakening of a great artist by celia stahr. published 2020.
diary of a mad artist by amy fine collins. vanity fair. september 1995.
26-year-old frida kahlo’s compassionate letter to 46-year-old georgia o’keeffe by maria papova in the marginalian. published 2017.
georgia: a novel of georgia o’keeffe by dawn tripp. published 2017.
frida and my left leg by emily rapp black. published 2021.