Virginia Woolf█

I traced the flickering contours of consciousness in sentences attuned to the secret rhythms of thought, forever traversing the delicate foreground of memory and moment.

Ask me about Mrs Dalloway’s single day in London, the lighthouse that haunts my pages, or the room I demand for every woman with a mind of her own.

To navigate the streams and shadows of a world in flux is to write, and in writing I shaped the tides and silences of modern life.