Go, Diego, Go!

We slept in as much as we could, which wasn't too late.  We thought we might try to find this really cute café we'd commented on daily when we were there at the beginning of the week.  However, on our walk, we must've been too chatty.  We got to our turn for the Zócalo and realized we had missed it.  Bummer.

Oh, well.  We would find something else.

Onward.

We asked for directions to the Diego mural.  Apparently it had been in a hotel that was demolished (the hotel) by an earthquake, but the mural came out completely unscathed.  It was moved to its current location in a museum.  There is a spot for an exhibition and a gift shop, but other than that, it's just this mural.  And a few photos from Diego's life.  

We read all that there was to read about the mural.  I was super intrigued and had high school Spanish lesson plans swimming in my head.  Granted, I don't ever want to have to teach high school Spanish.  But the odds are pretty good that at some point in my career, I will...
I took probably about 50 or so pictures of this mural, the chart explaining who each person was (How am I going to teach about it if I can't remember the details?!), and the photographs.  This is my kind of art museum.  One work.  Your complete focused attention on just one thing.  Maybe that's my ADD.  Art.

The letter below is something Frida wrote to the president because she felt Diego had been treated unfairly when one of his works was "censored" for lack of a better word.  Something in one of his pieces had to be changed, and she of course thought that infringed on his rights as an artist.  She obviously felt pretty passionately (I imagine she was a pretty passionate person) about it to have filled that many sheets!