vintage-woman-writing1Domestic drudgery was the fertile plain for imagination. Tragic interruptions became her lifeblood, and she mapped out kingdoms of imagination in letters she wrote herself.
Halcyon her life was not, but she winked at herself in the mirror and hurried through her morning. Lunchtime brought with it two treats – a cool glass of sars and half an hour in her private universe.

 

Advertisements