Speak not of who I married.
Talented, my own right.
Forget what Frida would like.
If that’s blasphemy
Then let it be.
After all, who do you think had to die
The day Frida found life?
If I remain sleeping
Who rises to fight?
Crossing into insanity
Imprisoned but able to fly
Critics and plain old apathy
It’s hard to look at her straight in the eyes
The strange one with nothing but time.
Countless skulls now painted in tribute
She has her place in history
The lady, she has her name.
It’s time, now let Frida rest
It’s your time now
You are what remains.
She would have wanted it this way.
A time when little daughters
Walked bold and made their own way.
Generations from now
Her dream, dear
Was not a moment of fame.
It was legacy born of a day
Who would have faulted a broken girl
Had she chose to stay hidden away?
Before you give your voice away
Or bow to self imposed shame
Consider for a moment
This was yours
It’s your day,
when Frida remembers your name
Escrito para mi hija, sobrinas, hermanas, mama, primas, abuelas amigas y las que todavia no nacen.
If you want to know more, I’ve succeeded!
The bio and chisme sobre http://www.biography.com/people/frida-kahlo-9359496
Open Letter & Warning Of The Borg,
I resisted the borg for a long time. Confession: I have been spending a lot of time on Twitter. I know, I’m shameless. Only the strong willed should visit me there @esteladewa
I have seen some of you there but you exhibit such self control– Jedi like control I lack.
Miss you guys! I am starting Twitter-hab tomorrow and will return to normalcy (my normal which we know is still nutty) soon. Here is a quick update of what happened while I was in the Twitterverse.
I had a serious talk with myself and did a self check:
If I am spending too much time editing my selfies I:
1. Need to stop because then people won’t recognize me in real life.
2. May need to continue so people don’t recognize me in real life.
3. Need to get different color liquid foundation make up so my face is the same color as my neck.
4. Need to be a little concerned that I am taking selfies at all.
1. Told my husband that typing in bed at night was good for our marriage. If my keyboard clicking didn’t wake him up at night he would have to admit I was perfect and it’s hard to be married to someone perfect. I was only thinking about him and his own mental well being.
2. One of my sons graduated from high school and proudly announced he was “…taking time off” before starting college classes. I was at a loss for words– so was he when I asked what exactly he was taking time off from. The “breaker” can be seen here on his dad’s shoulders.
4. I cried for a lot of reasons when they didn’t see me.
5. I went overboard with the pictures.
6. Then I contemplated what the world would be like if people in the past had lived, died and measured their worth or pursuit of passion by likes or followers.
7. I discovered some new people that I am happy live today and don’t appear to live or die or measure their worth or pursuit of passion by likes or followers. I invite you to get to know them.
8. I got mad.
9. Then I fell asleep hoping some of it was a bad dream.
10. I woke up. I realized one person can make a difference. We have to for the ones that can’t anymore.
“Teach me to cook,” I pleaded. “You love him don’t you?” “Yes, I do.” “Then you know how to cook.” Obviously she didn’t remember hot dog and egg experiment. Maybe she had fed it to the cat under the table. She was kind and would have eaten failed experiments every day. Her beautiful face could convince the worst cook in the world she was a culinary genius. The flavors secondary. To be a good cook you must always do it with love in your heart. The flavors would catch up to the expression she believed cooking for a loved one was. A meal was a message. It needn’t be expensive or complicated. In fact, simple food let the main ingredient shine. Whenever she emerged into the room to announce the food was ready, her children saw her as nothing short of a magical being that could make a small feast…
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