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Kate Moss has bought Coleridge's London house in Hampstead - one of my most favourite places. I have stayed in a few writer's famous places of writing in the Ireland and found them, alas, to be the most haunted places I have ever been - ghost stories and all. However, an air of conduciveness filled the air as pens almost ripped themselves across the pages, a little like Yeats' wife George and her automatic writing

Apparently according to this Guardian article:

Coleridge's room is on the second floor, but cannot be seen from the street. His single dormer window commands the glorious upper woods of Hampstead Heath and Kenwood House, a view he once compared to his own sacred kingdom of Kubla Khan. Coleridge grew plants on his windowsill, including the symbolic herb myrtle, emblem of lost love. He also wrote his last prose work here, a collection of grave spiritual reflections, Aids to Reflection.


Perhaps Kate will feel the spirit of Coleridge's inspiration post self medication and pick up the pen?