“My Birth” by Frida Kahlo
The Life of GNAY in 5 Paintings
I am born. It is said when most babies were crying for a nipple or the bottle I was hungering for a crayon. The bottle would come later. My memories from this time are scant, but I do recall being frustrated with my attempts to express myself. You can only say so much with crying, but mom wouldn’t let me near sharp pencils or pens. I do recall several “whimsical” (the “thought provoking” would come later) landscapes executed in mashed peas and carrots upon my dinner tray that sadly were wiped clean before they could be juried. This would become an important theme throughout my life, people not taking my work seriously. Sadly, no evidence of my early creativity remains today.