Dear Rosa and Murray,
So strange this time and space and matter of displacements;
there you are far away and yet it is easy to imagine Tacoma, easy and painful
imagining fresh butter, bacon, oh glory, rationing indeed, among all the green
lawns and clean sidewalks ice-cream sodas and shiny bicycles; would you please
lend me a fresh strawberry pecan nut special? did you ever stop to realize how
much is wasted in circulars from bond houses alone? Let all talk of the State
Dept. continue to fall on deaf I mean deef ears all tangled up as they are with
their clean hands rolling snakes disguised as hoops, they (all of them of
course) according to this oracle will find themselves in some sinister fairy
circles before they eat their lobster thermidor, Rue Thermidor, again.
I do not think I like war stories but I think they have to
be written. The accounts of action if Life are some of the best things I've
read, especially one about Guadalcanal. I'm amazed at the tact and
sensitiveness and good bare style that seems to give you the thing as it is;
truth is a meaning too, and probably the one we Americans feel most, its
austere sweetness even distempering us for other values that we need perhaps to
fatten out our spirits. But I rather hope I shall not read because I hope you
will not have to write any of the war experiences of Murray Morgan. We’ve just
heard the news of the American bombing of the Roumanian oil fields, 99% of the
Nazi supply, someone said. The British owned the wells, but the Americans have
no hesitation therefore; what curiously thoughtful faces there must be behind
the desks in both capitals sometimes, saying nothing but tapping their teeth
with their pencils.
Gordon has been alternately living in Washington and Oregon,
on sound and snow-peak, island and beach. To the point where I had to wire
Californians Inc. who did not I am sorry to say quite come up to scratch; influence
of Hollywood draping a beauty more or less ready for bathing around every
scenic marvel including the frozen waterfalls, which meant, as a matter of focus,
cutting out the waterfalls. As far as I can tell he has taken to living
permanently somewhere in a sound, but whether Washington or Oregon I'm not
sure; it's very bright blue in the picture.
Yesterday little grey kitten (who came with a blue bow) Chickadee
had three different coloured cats, one an obvious scoundrel with a white,
yellow, brown black and grey face, he ought to be drowned but we can't find
anyone with the heart to do it. She is fine and not very surprised. One of them
looks like her. I've just read that the discovery of a dark planet outside the
solar system leads our most responsible astronomer to say there are probably
thousands of inhabited planets, all dark, all not doing anything but revolving
in a permanent black-out; all dark boats launched on their indefinite length
fixed cruise for to see and to admire.
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| Lake Patzcuaro "That reflecting stillness in which all things are double" Rosa Morgan photograph | | |