HAPPY DAY OF THE DEAD (DIA DE LOS MUERTOS)!!!!

Those pictures are of beautiful shrines and altars built to honor my favorite girl, Frida of course, on this special occasion. In case you’ve never heard of this amazing celebration I’ll give you a brief description (compliments of Wikipedia):

Day of the Dead (Día de los Muertos) is a holiday celebrated by many in Mexico. Gatherings of family and friends pray for and remember their loved ones who have died. The celebration occurs on November 2 in connection with the Catholic holidays of All Saints' Day (November 1) and All Souls' Day (November 2). Traditions connected with the holiday include building private altars honoring the deceased using sugar skulls, marigolds, and the favorite foods and beverages of the departed and visiting graves with these as gifts. The Day of the Dead is a time of celebration, where partying is common. People go to cemeteries to be with the souls of the departed and build private altars containing the favorite foods and beverages as well as photos and memorabilia of the departed. The intent is to encourage visits by the souls, so that the souls will hear the prayers and the comments of the living directed to them. Celebrations can take a humorous tone, as celebrants remember funny events and anecdotes about the departed.

I have my Frida altar assembled and my candles lit. I plan on drinking a shot of tequila in her honor (booze lover that she was) and leaving one out as an offering. It’s the least I can do for the woman who has become my personal guru. Plus, Frida loved Day of the Dead. She was inspired by José Guadalupe Posada prints:

           Diego was influenced by Posada as well. He painted Posada, himself, and Frida into his mural “Dream of a Sunday in Alameda Park”:

            I love and respect the way Mexican culture views death. Mexicans live with death everyday. It’s not a taboo or a phobia. Death is embraced with a sense of humor. It’s affectionately mocked, like an old friend.  

Nobody embodies that spirit more than Frida. She lived her life with one foot on earth and one foot in the hereafter. She suffered polio, impalement in her tragic bus accident, 35 operations to correct her spine and alleviate her chronic pain, amputation, alcoholism and morphine addiction and yet she never lost her spirit, her charm, or her sex appeal. She may have been bedridden for many long weeks and months, but she kept living. She wore her beautiful Tehuana clothing. She put on her red lipstick. She spent hours on her hair. She put rings on every finger. More importantly, she continued to love voraciously. Most importantly, she painted.

So let’s all drink a shot of tequila for my Frida.

I love you amiga! Viva la vida!