Isn’t it interesting how certain people come into our awareness?
My initial recollection of discovering Virginia Woolf was simply hearing her name. I thought, “What a magical name for a woman to embody!” Next, another fleeting connection, someone mentioned that she had led a tragic life.
“Nothing thicker than a knife’s blade separates happiness from melancholy.” ~ Virginia Woolf
She came to me in veils of drifting facts and opinions, some of my writer friends focused on her courage, others became fascinated by her sadness. I wanted more. More than the “occurrences” of her life.
“How much better is silence; the coffee cup, the table. How much better to sit by myself like the solitary sea-bird that opens its wings on the stake. Let me sit here forever with bare things, this coffee cup, this knife, this fork, things in themselves, myself being myself.” ~ Virginia Woolf
My favorite book about Virginia is one about her garden. It reveals a personal side shared with her husband, and where she had a room of her own.
“A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction.” ~ Virginia Woolf
She also fascinated me because she loved a woman with great poignancy, and at times, I feel a fierce sisterhood as I too loved a woman, a garden, and live many hours in my room, writing out my heart.
“The truth is, I often like women. I like their unconventionality. I like their completeness. I like their anonymity.” ~ Virginia Woolf