Ballad for Frida Kahlo — Alice Rahon


Ballad for Frida Kahlo, 1966  by Alice Rahon (1904–1987)

Self Portrait with Necklace of Thorns — Frida Kahlo

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Autorretrato con Collar de Espinas (Self Portrait with Necklace of Thorns), 1940 by Frida Kahlo (1907-54)

Self-Portrait with Cropped Hair — Frida Kahlo


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What the Water Gave Me — Frida Kahlo


Frida’s Bathroom — Graciela Iturbide


Crimes of the Moonlight Melonmounter (Cormac McCarthy’s Suttree)

Still Life with Watermelons, Frida Kahlo

Two pairs of brogans went along the rows.

You aint goin to believe this.

Knowin you for a born liar I most probably wont.

Somebody has been fuckin my watermelons.


I said somebody has been …

No. No. Hell no. Damn you if you aint got a warped mind.

I’m tellin you …

“I dont want to hear it.

Looky here.

And here.

They went along the outer row of the melonpatch. He stopped to nudge a melon with his toe. Yellowjackets snarled in the seepage. Some were ruined a good time past and lay soft with rot, wrinkled with imminent collapse.

It does look like it, dont it?

I’m tellin ye I seen him. I didnt know what the hell was goin on when he dropped his drawers. Then when I seen what he was up to I still didnt believe it. But yonder they lay.

What do you aim to do?

Hell, I dont know. It’s about too late to do anything. He’s damn near screwed the whole patch. I dont see why he couldnt of stuck to just one. Or a few.

Well, I guess he takes himself for a lover. Sort of like a sailor in a whorehouse.

I reckon what it was he didnt take to the idea of gettin bit on the head of his pecker by one of them waspers. I suppose he showed good judgment there.

What was he, just a young feller?

I dont know about how young he was but he was as active a feller as I’ve seen in a good while.

Well. I dont reckon he’ll be back.

I dont know. A man fast as he is ought not to be qualmy about goin anywheres he took a notion. To steal or whatever.

What if he does come back?

I’ll catch him if he does.

And then what?

Well. I dont know. Be kindly embarrassin now I think about it.

I’d get some work out of him is what I’d do.

Ought to, I reckon. I dont know.

You reckon to call the sheriff?

And tell him what?

They were walking slowly along the rows.

It’s just the damndest thing I ever heard of. Aint it you? What are you grinnin at? It aint funny. A thing like that. To me it aint.

One of my favorite passages from Cormac McCarthy’s novel Suttree. The title of this post also comes from the novel, several pages later, after the melonmounter has been apprehended.

Frida with Globe, Coyoacan, Mexico — Manuel Alvarez Bravo

Frida Kahlo’s painted body cast


Via/more. About:

After her bus accident, Kahlo was in a full body cast for three months, and she remained in pain for the rest of her life. She painted her casts and corsets, turning them from medical equipment into artworks

Frida Kahlo reclining on her bed in Coyoacán, Mexico


My Birth — Frida Kahlo

Pitahayas — Frida Kahlo

Tree of Hope, Remain Strong — Frida Kahlo

Without Hope — Frida Kahlo


The Dream — Frida Kahlo


What the Water Gave Me — Frida Kahlo

The Wounded Dear — Frida Kahlo

Portrait of My Father — Frida Kahlo