“Nothing has really happened until it is described.”

(So you must write many letters to your family and friends, and keep a diary.) These are the beautiful and everlasting words of Virginia Woolf.

Every year on Women’s Day I can’t help but traverse the internet to rediscover the brave and intelligent women that compel me to keep going. I almost always start with VW, a beloved visionary - the artist and co-founder of The Hogarth Press redefined the female narrative.

She infused life into language through stream of consciousness, a beautiful writing technique that relies on the thoughtful flow of feelings and ideas. But more than a writer, Woolf was a truth teller, and willing to endure the staunch pain that often accompanies introspection; the discomfort that comes with evaluating the female struggle up-close and personal.

Relying on her own intuitive lens, V defined womanhood in an era of female subservience and remains an example of what it means to be purposefully unapologetic in the pursuit of finding oneself.

She fulfilled her unwavering ability to give meaning to the journey.

To me, that is the essence of being an artist, to inhabit this state of being.

It’s Women’s Day, so I’m thinking about what V represents to me — the deepest and most enduring parts of womanhood, the fine line between genders and the possibilities that come to life when, like V, we fly up into the sky of our minds to get a bird’s eye view.

It’s like she says in A Room of One’s Own, “In each of us two powers preside, one male, one female… The androgynous mind is resonant and porous… naturally creative, incandescent and undivided.”

So thankful for VW and the many female mentors for their guidance and education.