What's Inside of You?

I looked up and straight into the mirror, but I didn’t see me as I know myself to look, I saw Frida Kahlo.

"I was a born painter."

Then I awoke, half forgetting about what I’d seen that night in my dream.

Having seen the film based on the life of Kahlo years ago, and only remembering that she was a fiery character, I decided to dig into her a little.

I nearly fell out of my chair laughing so hard when I read the following, which seemed to resonate quite well:

“I paint myself because I am so often alone, and because  I am the subject I know best….I was a born bitch. I was a born painter.”

And from this quote, my mind took me back to a Tarantino quote I’d recently come across;

“When people ask me if I went to film school, I tell them, ‘No, I went to films.'”

Now - closer to home – and around the topic of “jobs.”

In the past month, I’ve spent a great deal of time with two of my dearest friends, both mothers, both of whom I’ve known for most of the five years I’ve been in Slovakia.

I’ve observed them very intently with their little ones, and can tell you that they are each wonderful & beautiful mothers, (and believe you me, they didn’t spend five years in school, studying how to be such a mother– the most challenging & rewarding “job,” in equal measure-).

Their whole lives prepared them for this role, and being true to themselves, they do it innately, with so much love and care—blessed are they & their daughters.

Now – there is a theme here - between Frida, Quentin, and my dear friends, and over and over again, this theme paints itself in and around me.

(Especially to – but not exclusive to- young(er) people):

What you are is inside of you already. It always was and it always will be. Your “job” is to realize it and paint your life too.

Let go and let yourself be.

Love & Peace.

Mere Passersby

He'd spotted her in a crowd that fateful evening, at a concert, just before the final set was to be performed.

She'd only half willingly gone in the first place, and there she stood, being talked to, by some man she'd just met. It was only 24 hours prior, in a drunken stuper, that she'd collapsed in a pile of tears, on her bedroom floor, finally writing away her ex-fiancé. For too long she awaited his return, but decided with all her heart that she would no longer torture herself--almost a year and a half after the fact, she had to move on.

She watched him all the while. He was straight ahead of her, perhaps five meters or so, and was he ever loud in his natter, but his gestures-even louder!

Arms everywhere, mouth going a million miles a minute, and when he spotted her, everything stopped. Everything. Even time seemed to stand still.

Having been watching him, she saw him freeze, the instant he took notice of her. No word of a lie, his eyes went wide, mouth drew open, and he pointed right at her, just like in the movies.

Drawn to him like a magnet, over she went. She extended her hand, to shake his. Gently, he took it, turned and kissed it, staring into her eyes all the while, and said along the lines of:

"You are so beautiful, where have you been all my life...?"

She, herself, was incredibly surprised. His energy was stronger than any other man she'd met or known-- quite possibly even the strongest of anyone she'd ever met.  With introductions and such over, he still had her hand in his, & much as he wouldn't let go, she hadn't wanted him to..

They talked and talked, losing all track of time, until he was beckoned back to the stage- there was still a third set to be played, after all.

Tucked away, where he couldn't see her, she watched him play, song after song.  She'd not known of him before, but that ended quickly as she walked home that night. There he was, poster after poster, and from one moment to the next, from nowhere, he was 'now here.'

The very next day, he wrote to her---she smiled to herself…

He was winning her heart, quickly, and whether he knew it or not, filling her with so much love, so much energy.

He vowed that he was different, not like the rest. And when he told her that he loved her, she responded with, "that's your problem."

- Neither was she, like the rest, you see.

It was the beginning, unbeknownst to her, of the greatest, magical love, she'd ever experienced, to that point.

He promised her freedom-to show her freedom-a promise he kept. 

Living up to his word, indeed he showed her light -her freedom- and after she put that map in her heart, seeing the way, to one another they said, goodbye.

"...They were mere passersby, who were supposed to catch each other for a few heartbeats, in a period of their lives- examining each others notes, singing together often time.-

Love is what she gave him, and  her own freedom is what he showed her.

Together they moved forward, along parallel tracks-

Each having completed their mission-never to connect again..."

"Love just is, & cannot be kept."