I’ve always had a morbid fascination with female literary figures that took their own lives. I know that this sounds incredibly macabre and perhaps this is a tad too honest for the public domain of the ‘blogdom’, but there you have it. These women really saw the world for what it was, they felt its raw harshness so crisply, and became mediums that poured these feelings onto paper and back into the world. This repetitive cathartic cleansing process probably worked until it didn’t. Still I have a deep admiration for their craft and the bold bravery that comes with spilling your emotions, allowing them to be examined, dissected a hung up like laundry.
This week marks the 79th birthday of Sylvia Plath and to celebrate, a new exhibition at the Mayor Gallery in London is showing a different side to Plath, with the first ever exhibition of her drawings opening on November 2. These beautiful and eclectic depictions reveal a lighter side to her character and I just love them.