my partner and I are standing in the doorway of virginia woolf’s summer residence, monk’s house. she wrote in a cottage in the garden, had a a great number of literary [and a few romantic] conversations in the living room, and, when madness threatened to return one time too many, walked away from it, into the river ouse with stones in her pocket.
It’s difficult to find well-informed people in this particular topic, but you sound like you know what you’re talking
about! Thanks