I wrote this because I struggle with my own depression, and I know that Sylvia is and was revered. What i don’t know is why or how our society has come centuries without understanding what depression is and what mental health and what matters to the sanctity of our lives. What i don’t know is why tragedy is the only way people can seemingly come to understand the identity of another.
What determines legacy – exhaustion or raw talent and how do we find a balance between the two?
This is for Sylvia, because I picture you in your state of mind in this what probably was your back yard one beautiful afternoon – a portrait in a series that contains smiles as well as sadness …
