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 |
