YO SOY FRIDA
35 years old
I am mexican
I am a poet and a weaver.
Over the last couple of years, while feeling completely broken inside a sick body I asked myself a question, over and over again.
What does it mean to survive?
Attentive to what death whispered to me through my failing body I navigated pain and survival.
Then I went into exile, to heal.
Exile felt quiet and still and I imagined myself inside a cocoon.
Frida’s white cast.
Securely held in place I was able to relax into my own balance.
Frida’s legacy showed me there is much beauty to tell in the healing.
I see myself as this recovering creative Frida and now I ask myself:
What does it mean to come alive?