The Mexican guy I fell in love with

I know this will be shocking to all of you, but on my recent trip to Mexico City I fell in love with a Mexican man. He's not very attractive, overweight and wears glasses. He has somewhat unruly hair and he smokes. They tell me he is a terrible womanizer, oh and brace yourself, he's a communist. His name is Deigo, Deigo Rivera. And I love him.



You may have heard of him and his wife, Frida Kahlo. I love her too.
We went to Frida's home Casa Azul. Learning the details of her life made me so wish I could have met her.



What an exceptional person. I'm still trying to understand why she and Diego held such extreme political beliefs. They seemed like intelligent people. I need to do quite a bit more research, clearly. Also, why did Frida not pluck her unabrow? And how does she feel about having her face plastered on every other shopping bag and drink coaster set in the tiendas?


I would be willing to bet she is turning over in her grave except I happen to know first hand she was cremated and stored in a pot shaped like a pre-columbian frog. It was her request because frogs reminded her of Diego, in a good way, apparently. In spite of these burning questions, I could not have enjoyed touring her home and studio more.






As for my man Deigo, well, we came across a few of his most remarkable murals in the national palace and I was hooked. The passion! The satire! The beautiful colors, not to mention the gigantic scale of his work, grabs you and pulls you in.



Needing another fix, we went to the Belles Artes theater and climbed three, or maybe four, unbelievably arduous flights of marble staircases, cuz you know the good stuff is on the tip-top floor and the elevator was "not working today". Anyway we earned the exquisite pleasure of seeing several of his most famous murals.



Still not satisfied, the next day we made a trek to the building where the national education offices are housed. That in itself was interesting, peeking in the doors to see what the secretary of elementary education in Mexico was doing today. But the real treat was the motherlode of Deigo's murals all around the three floors of courtyards. It was amazing and wonderful and if Deigo had not already passed into the great beyond over fifty years ago I would be stalking him at his hacienda today.