Pigeon and roots
She lives at the end of the village, where the path through the village ends in the jungle. There in the deep green she has a small house. Let's go, I'll show you her house. Frida's house! Deeply overgrown is the path that leads to it, full of wild vegetation and lush vegetation. Can you smell them, the broken palm leaves as they mix with the moist minty air of the breathing jungle. Breathe deeply and breathe to the rhythm of the sounds around us. Look at the monkeys, small and tender. They run ahead and show us the way deeper and deeper into their hearts. Into the heart of Frida herself! Flowers bloom everywhere. Exotic, wild and beautiful to look at. Everywhere at the wildly overgrown wayside. Climb over the little creek filled with her tears. With Frida's tears of joy and sorrow. More suffering than joy!
Climb over the humid, huge roots of the ancient trees that stand here and you can see it. There it is, her house. Frida's house! They always circle here. The pigeons. So many pigeons are pulling their sheets over your roof. So white and tender in plumage. They look like little angels. She's feeding them. Frida's feeding her! Look at the garden, lined with sapote whose fruits taste like chocolate pudding. Sweet and creamy-fine. Like a tender pain. Fridas pain! The table in the garden is covered with flowers and fruits, as if she had expected us. Can you smell it?
The flowers and the citric fruits. How they mix with the ground coffee powder in the coffee grinder on the table. She ground him. Frida ground him!
She was here a minute ago. You can recognize it by the cigar that still glows in the stone ashtray on the table with the fruits and flowers. Flower arrangements that look like jewelry. Hair ornaments,frida's hair ornaments! The tobacco smoke gently and quietly pulls its waves through the twilight and beginning evening. The deep Mexican jungle goes to rest. Frida did it too. Look through her window and tell me what you see? There she lies asleep and surrounded by her pictures. Painted with soft and balsamic colours. Pictures painted under pain and suffering. How can a single person create so much beauty under so much pain? She could. Frida could do it! So many pictures of herself she painted. She was too often alone and lonely she said and she knew herself best. That's what she once said! And you know what else she said: I don't need feet to walk because I have wings to fly!...and it was true! And now let's go quietly again and let her rest. Or rather, let's... let them fly to the locations of their pictures. Fridas pictures!
Paloma y Raíces dove and roots
"I have always thought that I am the strangest person in this world, but later I thought that there are many such people in the world, so there must be someone like me who feels bizarre and damaged in the same way that I feel. I imagine the woman, and I imagine that she thinks of me over there, too. All right, I hope when you get there and read this that you know it's true that I'm there and as weird as you are."