Frida’s whisper

Frida… Sometimes I feel you watching me — from the smoke of your cigarette, from the fire of your sun-colored crown. You tell me: “Don’t stop. Not now. Pain isn’t the end , it’s the paint.” So I keep going. My hands shake sometimes, my body protests… but my colors never surrender. This swan carries me when my wings are tired. Its feathers become the softness I need to rest, and the strength I need to rise again. You laugh a little, I know , because you see me fighting, stubborn as you were, with hope, with fear, with every heartbeat turning into art. I paint because I must. I paint to stay alive in all the ways that matter. And maybe… just maybe… you’re still whispering: “Fly anyway.” 🎨🕊️ Medium: Digital Painting