FIERCE LIKE FRIDA illustration (2025)
A year from now, here are five things from this week that I'd like to remember:
MONDAY
F holding her birthday painting (2025)
For F’s third birthday I draw her a picture of Frida Kahlo. It’s Frida Kahlo I think of when I look at my own walking, talking stick of fire. I think of the Frida who suffered through polio as a child, who found sustenance in mischief, who laughed though she was bedridden for years, who painted from under Diego’s exhausting shadow—who never reduced herself to pity or sympathy, but instead, again and again, rose once more.
My own F is respectably, admirably strange. She tells the ceiling fan to stop staring at her; she converses with the monster that lives inside her walls; she walks on both hands and feet; she uses her body and mind fully, without shame or fear of observation. She meanders around the house, randomly screaming, just to get the steam out. She is quick to apologize, quick to forgive, continually in search of a hand to hold. She’s always trying to catch up to her big sister.
Sometimes, she reminds me of myself. Most of the time, she reminds me of no one. A true one-of-a-kind, unburdened by what’s either trending or acceptable, crafted entirely by her own hand.
When she opens her mouth and sticks out her tongue, I see the entire world spinning inside: A tiny top she snatched up for amusement.
When I ask her if she dreamed last night, she says yes.
When I ask her what she dreamed about, she looks right into my eyes: you.
TUESDAY
I have another version of the Kahlo print up for sale in my BuyOlympia shop:
I AM MY OWN MUSE illustration (2025)
Just like Frida Kahlo and my own little F, I made this version to remind myself to be my own motivation, inspiration, and source of creativity, as often as I can.
You can purchase a print for your own studio (or a loved one!) in my shop.
WEDNESDAY
I finished listening to Beartown by Frederik Bachman, the first in a trilogy about a small town built around their youth hockey team, and what happens when a violent incident divides their community. While I’m absolutely ready to begin the sequel, delaying gratification by making myself meet two big deadlines first. Instead, I’m re-reading a hard copy of the book, paying attention to sentence structure and Bachman’s use of language.
I’m also listening to Mother Mary Comes to Me by Arundhati Roy. The audiobook is narrated by Roy, which adds to my listening pleasure. Her wit and intellect shine through her the sound of her voice and into my ears and later, shoot back out through my eyes. Everything I look at afterwards seems brighter.
THURSDAY
The interactive experience that is The human body’s hidden pathways by Avraham Z. Cooper, with excellent illustrations by Jerome Berthier.
“Even today, it’s common knowledge among many Europeans that young linden leaves are tender and delicious when mixed into a salad; that the flowers are a favorite of bees and lend a lovely aroma to their prized linden honey; that tea made from the leaves and flowers helps reduce fevers and relieve anxiety, insomnia, and pain. In France, Tilleul tea is so common that you can buy a box from any regular supermarket. It’s often given to children after dinner to help them digest and sleep. And anyone will tell you about how much the birds love these trees. Indeed, European starlings and lindens are almost synonymous, as the birds often nest in trunk holes and gather in raucous cacophony in the canopy. Insectivores like sparrows and warblers descend in huge flocks to snatch aphids drawn to the tree’s sweet sap.”
—from Caitlin Shetterly’s The Tree in the Square, which I serendipitously read a few weeks after falling in love with my friend’s own mammoth backyard Linden tree
FRIDAY
I want to tell my friends how beautiful
the world is. Not but what they know
it is terrible too—they know as well as I;
but nevertheless, I want to tell my friends.
Because they are. And this is what they are;
and because it is and this is what it is.
You are my friend. The world is beautiful.
Dear friend, you are. I want to tell you so.
—The Tell by William Bronk
Of all the things you can put in front of your eyes, I’m grateful that my little letter is one of them.
If you’d like to support me, please buy my books. My art prints and line of greeting cards make excellent gifts for yourself or a friend. You can also hire me for your next project—I’d love to work together.
xx,
M
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