Desolate, dry, and bare are the surroundings of this fragile, unstable self portrait of Frida Kahlo. The question of why she would so openly depict herself in this unflattering, insecure state circulates through my mind. A column, broken and cracked, as her support illustrates the instability of her soul and emotions. It appears as if she has been ripped apart and torn in two different directions, with only straps to hold her together. She may have two sides that contradict one another, each making up her personality and spirit. Should she think as a woman or as an artist? Nails pin up her flesh or symbolize the many expressions of ridicule from the public, with the biggest penetrating her heart. Analyzing this piece, I wonder, who is this woman and what is her past that compels her to depict herself in this fashion? Frida Kahlo: a woman, a lover, a sufferer, but most of all an artist renewing the way we think.