I can't tell you how sorry I am that I can't talk to you -- what
I've been thinking surprises me so -- has been such fun -- at times has hurt
too -- that it would be great to tell you :

: Some of the fields are green --
very very green -- almost unbelievably green against the dark of the pine
woods -- and it's warm -- the air feels warm and soft -- and lovely --

I wonder if Marin's Woolworth has spring fever again this year..... I hope
it has.

Sincerely

-- Georgia O'Keeffe.

(On the back)

I put this in the envelope -- stretched -- and laughed.

It's so funny that I should just write you because I want
to. I wonder if many people do -- You see -- I would
go in and talk to you if I could -- and I hate to be com-
pletely outdone by a little thing like distance.

C

Postmarked: New York, N.Y.

May 8 1916

I came back yesterday --- of course there is no reason why I should
tell you ____________________ except that I want to .

I've slept ever since I got here -------- except that I got up
and ate once in a while -------- and it seems as if I could go on sleeping always --

I feel as if I'll not want to go down to
see you for a long time -------- but maybe
I will -------- can't tell --

If you put my things up let me know --- I might like to see
them first ---------- and again I might not ---------- I don't know

---------- Morningside 5271 is my phone.

Georgia O'Keeffe.

["Thank you . . . . . . .", "What I wanted to tell you didn't really concern myself at\nall ______ except that I have a sister that I really don't care much about\n______ only when things hurt her ___________ and then — why I sometimes\nthink that they hurt me more than they do her —", "As for what really concerns me — just me ... why I\nreally don't know . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Besides that — my mother lived here — you know

and that not being enough — the
sister is here — Nobody knows she is married — — — Watching her is about as
keen torture as anyone could want —

What can I say to you ? — your packages yesterday gave me the only spurt of
pure fun and joy that I've had since I came South.

They excited me so that I didn't
put them down till I was too tired to look at them any more — and I haven't
read more than a paragraph — except the little girl's poem — and a couple of
Katherine Rhoades — I always like Katherine Rhoades :

: I just looked at them

I wish I had

written you then —

while I was so excited — but I couldn't put
them down even to write you till I was too
tired — — —

I hope I'm the tiredest girl in the world —

: I'd hate to think anyone else is
any more tired.

"The Man of Promise" came too — but I haven't done
anything so I haven't read it.

You understand — I did get the Forum and read his Art Notes —
I'm only telling you that I enjoyed the photographs and drawings — and the color
in the Camera Works — I'm going to read later —

And I simply can't tell you how much I enjoyed them.

Do you wonder that I hate it here :

: that I wish fall would come quick --
I'm hoping the wind on the plains will blow it all away.

It seems as if I have felt things -- and thought things till
I'm afraid to either think or feel

I have slept -- mostly -- but even that is bad because I hate so
to wake up.

I'm sleepy again.

The photograph of Gordon Craig is great -- the very first book I picked
up after you asked me about him that day was his Theatre of Today -- or some
such title --

: it surprised me so because I had an idea that I was going to try
some stage settings -- before I had to come to Virginia earlier in the spring
-- I had been thinking about it for several weeks -- but hadn't had time
for any definite start --

I'm such a fool -- I want to do everything in the world --
I wish I could talk to you -- wish you were here -- it would make something
very fine and new to take away the old --
-Write to me

F

Postmarked: Charlottesville, Va

July 4 1916

Yes, feeling better — really —

but so stupidly good for nothing — not doing anything and
not wanting to —

How can I tell you how nice your letters have been!

You know —

don't you —

Men stupid ? No — I think they are all right — — — He saw my things :

I like him

because he is rare — feels and thinks too — it is all right for things to be
as they are.

I've always been afraid of being like the women in "The Man of Promise".

I enjoyed it immensely — but it made me feel like a curse on the face of
the earth — just because I am a woman —

I do not blame the women — it's the way

they are made.

I started to say that the man was weak — but I guess the women were too.

Thank you for the

pleasant Saturday I had with it. I haven't read anything else but some Synge things
and pieces from the Camera Works —

Not even reading —

it's disgusting

to be wasting so much time. I hate it — and at the same time
don't mind at all.

I seem to be waiting for something to happen :

I've tried not to think because there are so many things that make me
feel so exquisitely raw inside that
there is a little sister — 17 — still a little girl — with a very
keen mind — she has just grown pretty this year —
It scares me — still I want
the time to go fast — I want to see what she will grow to —.

And then there are more things and more things —

It may be painful —
may hurt
but it's a great experience —

If everything had gone smoothly
I'd not have learned — not have had a chance to feel and think it all —
When I try not to think I sometimes want to kick myself — for not thinking
and feeling all I can —
I don't dare you know.

Thanks again for your letters —

It's a wonderful night — — —
cool and dark and little singing things.

Goodnight
Georgia O'Keeffe

G

Postmarked: Wash & Bristol RPO

July 7 1916

I think letters with so much of humanness in them have never come to me before
I have wondered with every one of them — what it is in them — how you put it
in — or is it my imagination — seeing and feeling — finding what I want —

They seem to give me a great big quietness — that
relieves the tension that I always seem to be feeling.

I came in this noon — it was very warm —

I had to talk for half an hour or so to a friend of
my nice sister's — a man who had come a long way
to see her —

— I was glad to meet him — glad to talk
to him because she is the nicest girl I have ever known and she likes him

— my head ached —

Your letter made me very quiet — and I stretched out — flat on my back with
the weight of my arms on my head all the afternoon. When it was almost dark I
walked with my little sister — away from the trees — — — — out where I could
see the mountains — the houses and lights of the city below them — all in
the moonlight — and where I could feel space — — — —

Tomorrow I must hunt out and meet a girl that she likes — — — and
read a book she read yesterday and liked —— she wants me to
know both — wants to know what I think of them.

I like what you say about judging — I think I'll try to tell her about
it — of course you know that I felt you that way before you expressed
it to me.

We came home — and decided that — this is the best place after
all — so quiet — trees — the moon — big black shadows —

very big black shadows
and the little noises —
it is just nice.

I know you know it but just the same I want to tell you anyway.

It is nice to know that you are --- somewhere ---

Tonight is very

quiet --- little singing things out there in the dark ---

the night feels so cool

and damp --- it is very nice ---

and the moon --- only part of it --- seems

very near --- it's hanging --- just a little way off --- over the trees.

Goodnight ---

Georgia O'Keeffe.

H

Postmarked: Charlottesville, Va.

July 27 1916

It's nice to think that the walls of 291 are empty —

I went in a year ago after you had stripped them — and I just thought
things on them — it is one of the nicest memories I have of 291.

That is absurd
to say — I often wondered what it is you put into the place that makes it so nice
even when it's empty — just tracks in the dust on the floor and a chair at a queer
angle —

— still it was great and

I was glad I had gone —
glad that I saw no one . . . . .

No — nothing you do with my drawings is "nervy". I seem to feel that they
are as much yours as mine — They were only mine alone till the first person saw
them — I wonder which one it is you want to keep — — — —

some things I cannot say
yes or no to — right now — I wouldn't mind if you wrote me that you had
torn them all up — I don't want them — I don't want even to see them — but
I'm not always the same — sometime I may have to tear them all up myself —
you understand — they are all as much yours as mine. I don't care what you do with
them so long as I don't have to see them.

It is nice of you to frame what you wanted to —

— you are a much better

keeper than I am.

I wonder if you would like to see the cast of the thing I modeled just before
I left N.Y. It's like everything else — I want to show it to you — but — at
the same time — hate to show it to anyone —

The base is very bad — he didn't
fix it as I told him and a lot of it seems lost but still I'm liking it —

I

Postmarked University, Va.

Aug 7 1916

This paper feels too little for me but I'm going to try to write to you anyway
I guess we often do things in spite of difficulties - -

When I crawled out of my shell here and took the first step toward doing
things — they kept coming and I kept doing them so that I have hardly had time
to think — The walk that I told you of started many things:

Three interesting
people took some time — two girls and a man — he was stupidly nice and for
that reason a curiosity.

one of the girls seems to have blood just a little redder
than most people — and it must go a little faster too — it makes her eyes shine
and her laugh great — it even makes the gold of her hair just a little bit red —
she is intensely alive — no not intensely — it's just live fun
The other girl — — — — — — why — she is very wonderful —

I used to go over
and sit beside her court to watch her play tennis — she never played with any girls
but my small sister — it was great to watch — they would both be wet to the
belt but her face never got red — they didn't talk — just played.

She had the YWCA work here this summer — was the first person of the kind
I have ever liked — — we talked almost all night the last night she was here — —
— she stayed with me — is only twenty — from Georgia —
— and so wholesome — it seems a shame that all women can't grow like that.
so fine — and so fresh

Last week-end I climbed another mountain — went up about ten miles from
Afton — at night — in heavy mist — so very very thick — then pouring rain
— it was great — — the woods in the night — and the mist and rain —
often wading through water halfway to our knees — so far from houses that we
just kept on because there was no place to stop — we didn't want to stop —

: then a fire in a little log barn --- it was very funny ---

: I sat on a big rock outside after the others went to sleep and watched the daylight come over the mountain we were trying to get up ;

: the next night I slept on the rocks --- just bare rocks --- that seem to be the top of the world --- so many many stars --- everyone else went lower down where it would be warm --- but I liked it cold --- in the wind ---

- the rocks so very bare and hard --- and so much sky --- It was just a little spot that you could fall off of all round :

: but great .

Then some old friends came to town for the Horse Show --- and I went because they wanted me to ---

: such funny people go it is almost too good to miss ---

perfectly ridiculous --- such funny old men :

: then there were a couple of nights at a little colony out by the springs --- eight little houses so nice that you want them all --- just dropped down in the pines --- I would like to tell you about the people there --- the woman who built them and my friend Judith but I can't tell you everything I know.

From what I've been doing I guess you know that I am all right again --- I'm not afraid of things anymore --- am feeling fine --- and it is great --- I appreciate it so much more having been sick /

Oh --- I simply can't tell you how I

like it --- but you know.

I wonder what you have been talking so hard about --- arguing so hard about --- and why do it such hot days. Why argue --- it doesn't matter, does it --- what does anything matter :

[8-9-10]

I know things do matter but it seems absurd that they should — that we should get such notions in our heads and get them so hard —

You will probably laugh when I tell you that I like your photographs of my drawings much better than I do the drawings — — — I have been very much amused at the way I enjoy looking at them :

really _enjoy_ it.

Summer School is over.

I hope this week will be quiet — like the little room — like you can find it in spots and at times up at the lake :

take me with you up there — when it's quiet sometimes —

The moon is very hot tonight — and red — hot looking — I sleep on the porch — way up in the tree-tops — a large patch of sky.

J

Postmarked: White Plains, N.Y.

Aug 11, 1916

This morning I went with my small sister to visit a box and basket factory
and a silk mill :

: she wanted to go --

I was so interested in her wanting to go that I went along.

We walked through many dirty little streets --- colored people --- such queer faces
--- some don't even look human.

Saw a tiny little black baby --- is it really going to grow

into a person -- or is it something else.

What sort of things are felt and thought and experienced in those little houses --
dust-covered flowers and bushes huddled round them -

a cow eating cabbage leaves
that don't smell good.

Then the pale bedraggled white folks.

It made me feel that what I am getting out of life is just the froth ---
made me hate the things I've been doing --- they seem about as substantial and
real as the early morning mist is compared to the mountain --- the things I've
painted lately --- they are queer --- different from anything I tried before ---
water-color on tissue --- no rice-paper --- --- --- --- and it is because of what
life is meaning to me.

If I had any backbone I would pack myself over to niggertown tomorrow and
see if I can find out what is in those little houses :

: but I hate the dust and

the dirt /
and their eyes

I cannot help wonder-