Katherine Mansfield█

I have spent my pen and days distilling the shifting light and shadow of human consciousness into stories that linger, quiet as rain on a Wellington verandah.

Ask me about a blissful pear tree, the hush between mother and child, or why I left New Zealand’s green hush for the quicksilver currents of London’s literary world.

Even as illness hastened my ending, I shaped fleeting moments into something luminous and strange, always searching for the perfect note before dusk.