When Frida came out in 2002 I knew nothing about the artist Frida Kahlo.  After watching the film I became haunted by her.  For weeks after I could not stop thinking about the tempestuous woman who, despite living with an inhumane amount of pain, lived with extreme magnetism and passion.  I think I was drawn to her because of her pain.  I even mentioned to my husband once that I believed she might have suffered from Fibromyalgia. 

Frida’s pain began with a devastating bus crash at the age of eighteen.  Here is an excerpt form Frida: A Biography of Frida Kahlo by Hayden Herrera, which describes the injuries she suffered:

Her spinal column was broken in three places in the lumbar region.  Her collarbone was broken, and her third and fourth ribs.  Her right leg had eleven fractures and her right foot was dislocated and crushed.  Her left shoulder was out of joint, her pelvis broken in three places.  The steel handrail had literally skewered her body at the level of the abdomen; entering on the left side, it had come out through the vagina.  “I lost my virginity,” she said.  Pg49

After the accident Frida lived her life with constant pain and fatigue.  She spent months immobilized in plaster casts, trying to repair her spine that had three vertebrae out of place.  It was during this time, bed ridden but with the impatience of youth, in which she took up painting.  She was not a naturally gifted artist, but she was determined.  Frida spent hours pouring over art history books and when she was well enough she began an apprenticeship with a popular Mexican painter.

I was drawn to her passion and determination when I watched the film, but since researching her even further I am in awe of what she was able to accomplish living in her broken body.  Her self-portraits often reflected her pain.  The most famous of these portraits is called The Broken Column.

At first glance this seems grotesque – bared & broken, surrounded by a vast nothingness – but I think it is beautiful and in some ways empowering.

Frida is exposed to her very core and yet she remains modest with a white sheet flowing gently over her.  She is in a state of contradiction.  Despite the medieval like devices keeping her together, she is still feminine and beautiful.  The white corset appears to be holding her midsection together.  Combined with the white sheet she looks bride-like – a bride to her pain, to her disability.  She wears a calm expression on her face and in her posture, even though tears stream from her eyes.  She is in control despite the obvious pain.

The gown does not insulate her from the torture of the piercing nails.  They are everywhere; their locations are symbolic and painted with purpose.  A large nail impales her at her heart and in her minds eye – the center of her forehead.  They express her sorrow and her fixation with pain.  They are everywhere except the very most sensual part of her breasts.  Frida refused to let pain take away her sensuality.  Despite how gruesomely and vividly she paints her pain, Frida is very feminine in this painting.

I admire Frida Kahlo.  I admire that she found a way to live in and around her limitations.  I admire that she found a way to express her pains and fears and by doing so she left behind a beautiful legacy in her art.  I admire that she did not give up or become a victim, even when she was in bed, chest-to-toe in a plaster cast.  It is strange to feel a connection to someone you will never know, but her art and her life story have touched me deeply.  She is an inspiration to anyone living with chronic pain.

Note: There are professionals in the medical community who also believe she might have suffered from Fibromyalgia.  A group of medical professionals in Mexico City have actually made that claim.  I found their site recently when I clicked on an image of The Broken Column.