Feet in the Bath

"Feet, what do I need you for when 

I have wings to fly?" - Frida Kahlo.

I take baths regularly.  Almost every night.  I think and dream, read, and take blissful refuge from the demands of being mother in the hot, hot water.  

The image I recall when I look at my feet.

Often times, I look down at my two feet near the stopper.  Last night it was to think about how I really need to remove the toe nail polish that is now only partway on about 7 of my toenails.  (But I didn't.)


I also almost always think about Frida Kahlo, which gets me thinking about mortality.  About what happens when you die.  About what it would feel like to have a painful disease and be stuck in bed for the majority of my life.  


And to still persist in making life a vibrant celebration.  That is what Frida Kahlo means to me.

The image which is the source of the quote above, "Feet, what do I need you for when I have wings to fly?"

When I was 26 I went to her house in Mexico City.  I was traveling alone and arrived there by subway.  I was struck by how colorful everything was, how prolific.  


I wish I could make my home an inviting escape for all who visit.
I wish I could create something that reflects the life I live, that will persist after I die.

Her loveliness, in color.

See what I mean... morbid.  But sometimes it is worth sharing these kinds of thoughts.  I think death reminds us how lucky we are to be among the living.  And I hope any readers of this know that I mean it in the kindest sense, and do not mean to make light of the very real pain of grieving a lost loved one.


I found the photos via this blog. 

A parting quote:

"I tried to drown my sorrows, but the bastards learned how to swim, and now I am overwhelmed by this decent and good feeling." - Frida Kahlo.