I tried to sleep but I can't.. I keep reminding New York and the cold days i had spent there at the beginning of this year. In fact the memories are back due to the soundtrack album of "The Hours" composed by Philip Glass.
I remember so clear the cold, straight streets of New York in a February. It was like yesterday. When i had arrived in New York it was snowing like it was the end of the world. Now there were only patches of snow in the corners of the streets, and a strong wind was blowing. Though it was sunny it was till cold, the sun seemed that it is putting even more in evidence the emptiness of the streets. I think it was in a morning, because the streets were not so full of people like usually. And I was not on an avenue anyhow, it was somewhere in Greenwich Village or West Village.
But is not only this street that I remember well. I remember as well the street that went to the UN, the United Nations Avenue, which pass in front of the Ford foundation building and next to the Tudor city. It was snowing and it was cold. The snow flakes were coming from the sky and lying on the asphalt... we were hurrying to the meetings.
And also I see, when I listen to The Hours, the street in Prague that was crossing the park next to the National Museum of History, under the bridge that sustained the road. It was just in front of Erik's house. It was also cold and it was snow. I remember just the moment I was just passing the portion under the bridge, just coming out to the light. .... and I was feeling so empty then... and somehow full of hope... white tulips.... white snow..... blank feelings..... and doors.... feelings, smells, light, snow, tension...lot of snow falling down the sky and covering the ground...
It is funny. I assimilate music with places. I assimilate "The Hours" with New York and Prague.
And then I assimilate "Gothan Project" with Marks' living room in Brighton. Actually i can say that I assimilate music with changes in my life, important changes.
Mark's living room was a small room, rather well proportionate with 2 large windows facing the stairs which were coming down the street - Mark's house was at the basement. It was a nice house, all white and very well proportioned, full of light and of nice positive feelings. All Brighton was inspiring, in that summer, a holiday feeling a rest that you could take after a long work. It was like a reward.
I will always think of Brighton like a favorite place. I will never forget the quiet breakfast we had in the garden. Lewis Carol's garden.... is this lost?? Will I ever have the chance to meet the same feelings again? Will the people I met be the same ones when I’ll return?
And now a theory that I believe is true. If we, as human being, would extinct from this Universe and nobody will be left to understand and explain the meanings of the words of our language, it may be very well that only music, perhaps, will send and create feelings in other alien civilization. Words are dead, sound are alive.
And now one last thing.
On March 28, 1941, Virginia Woolf filled her pockets with stones, and drowned herself in the River Ouse, near her home in Rodmell. She left a suicide note for her husband: "I feel certain that I am going mad again: I feel we can't go through another of those terrible times. And I shan't recover this time. I begin to hear voices, and can't concentrate. So I am doing what seems the best thing to do. You have given me the greatest possible happiness... I can't fight it any longer, I know that I am spoiling your life, that without me you could work"
The strange thing, in my opinion, is that she and Leonard had sworn to commit suicide if the Nazis had invaded U.K. And this was in the same year just a couple of months before she killed herself.
After her disappearance Leonard was still hoping that she might still be alive. I imagine her, thinking for a couple of days if she would really do it. She was not sure if she would take this step or not. And even if she knew this, maybe from a longer time, she couldn’t accept it until there was indeed no doubt that the madness will take her again. Until one morning she decided, while Leonard was out in the garden, she left the house through the back door…. she was sure of her steps. She hurried down to the river, and stopped in front of it like is she would have reconsidered the decision. She started to fill her pockets with stones and then slowly walked in the center to the river… she was naturally dragged to the bottom and the river took her away.
After a couple of days Leonard had lost the hope of finding her alive. After a couple of weeks some kids found her body – her body and not her spirit…. Leonard continued living in the same house till he died as well of natural causes.
Why such a great love had finished so abrupt?? Can we accuse Virginia of selfishness? Or of cowardness? Why did she decided not to live and endure the faith?
Why Leonard didn’t committed suicide after her? Was he even more a coward? Was he disappointed by Virginia?
