going 75 on 75
far north to see the water rise
a bridge to take me back
the way i came
the last time that i stayed
and trees familiar
streets unknown
a place that's anywhere but home
return to windows that see the sea
return to a room
that inspires
me
(canvas text)
Blog about the piece:
"I told you in the course of this paper that Shakespeare had a sister; but do not look for her in Sir Sidney Lee's life of the poet. She died young--alas, she never wrote a word. She lies buried where the omnibuses now stop, opposite the Elephant and Castle. Now my belief is that this poet who never wrote a word and was buried at the crossroads still lives. She lives in you and in me, and in many other women who are not here tonight, for they are washing up the dishes and putting the children to bed. But she lives; for great poets do not die; they are continuing presences; they need only the opportunity to walk among us in the flesh."
- Virginia Woolf, A Room of One's Own
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