So yesterday was kind of surreal. On the 74th anniversary of her death, me and my friend Adam went fishing for Virgina Woolf’s ghost…
Not literally. But Adam is working on his PhD and making a documentary about her last journey- the last long walk she took before filling her pockets with stones and walking into the river to her death.
It started with us going to see her house (open to the public after April) and sneaking through a graveyard into her back garden. You see that shed up in the photos? Well she and other famous writers at the time like T. S. Eliot would hang out in that shed and get drunk! After hearing some dogs barking and not wanting to get mouled to death on private property, we swiftly took to her final path. It was a long, isolated road with vast open fields and a small river down one side.
As you can see, the weather was strangely fitting. It was misty, cold and damp, giving the place a surreal, dreamlike edge. It was strangely quiet apart from the clicking of electricity lines and the occasional train cutting the landscape. I couldn’t help but wonder what must’ve been going through her mind as she walked the same path.
When we got there, I was suprised at the size of the river. I hadn’t expected it to be so big and rough. It was a bizarre thought… 74 years ago to that day, Woolf had walked into that same river and never walked out again.
Adam has been to the river multiple times and taken that same final journey. He’s using different technologies (video, digital cameras, film cameras and now sound) to capture different aspects of the walk. You might remember in my post a few weeks ago I explained that strange, coincidental (or not) things had happened each time he’d been.
We took my Sunco underwater camera and hydro-microphone and attached them to a large extendable pole. Then we recorded underwater. It sounded awesome! We did this until our faces were too cold to talk and after Adam slipped over in the mud (caught it on camera ha ha) we made for the pub.