A leaves

I

C

Alfend Strickland,
Lake Geneva
Huw Marlo

Lake George

Nov. 28-23

Dear Sherwood Anderson:

Tomorrow we leave for town. Boxes are gone. Trunks are red. The
house is clean. - We hate the idea of the city but we can't escape
going. - On Sunday we had a day of days - a blizzard - snow knee high.
And you should have seen how we enjoyed it. All day out of doors.
I photographing like possessed. O'Keeffe wandering about in the woods-
& rushing down to the Lake - All awonder and we marched ourselves to
the post office & enjoyed everything- every step -Beauty everywhere-
Nothing but Beauty-

White- White- White- & soft & clean- & maddening shapes- the whole
world in them. And curiously enough at the post office there was
an unusually big mail for me. Letters from London, from the
Austrian Alps- letters from Germany- from New York- all happened to
be very white from very white people. Wonderful letters- several of
much significance to me. It was a rare day. And O'Keeffe was as
happy & beautiful as the day. For years & years I had been hoping
for a day in Lake George like that one.- Truly a dream lived.- O'K
went to bed early. She was all in. I was up long after midnight-
attending stoves & many things needing attention. I have been madly
working.-

- The moon came out clear- & I stood watching the barns- & trees- &
    ground- & hills- the sky- an unbelievable dignity. Gosh what a
small thing man is with his capers. I'll never forget the barns that
I saw in the moonlight. Talk about the Sphinx & pyramids- there was
that barn- nothing could be grander- The austere dignity of it.
Flooded with light- It was as if it could have understood me if I
had spoken to it.- Perhaps it heard my Silence-

- Mrs. Strand is very excited about Horses & Men. Is reading it
a second time. Says it makes her smell what is in her blood. You
know her father was an actor & then organized the Buffalo Bill Wild
West Show. He died young.- She went to a concert & read Horses &
Men when the concert began to bore her. I once read Wilde's De
Profundis during a Bach organ recital. It was a treat- a rare one-
the combination. I hope the book is "going".- I have seen some
very stupid reviews.- Asses. Our love

PRESERVATION PHOTOCOPY: ORIGINAL MATERIAL RESTRICTED

Dear Stieglitz.

A good day for me with your letter and Paul's and the thought of your being together. Frankly I suppose I a little dread the winter for you in New York because I am afraid you will pitch in as usual and not take things easy. Great God, can you take things easy. I'm afraid it isn't in you, dear man.

I have finally got through the book and it is as long as the devil but seems pretty good. I think I'll just call it, "A Story Teller's Story". That's what it is. I've written what I think will be a very good dedication to you. There is just the picture of you as you will always stay so sharply in my mind, you in a room with painting #7 on the wall and facing the stupid, half irritated people. You patiently explaining, over and over, trying to make all of the poor MARXIST dears see the beauty you see.

I'll offer the book to Harpers but if they do not take it I don't care now. In that case there might be the possibility that Dial or Menchen and Nathan's new magazine, The American Mercury, might want parts of it. Book publication should come next fall.

And by the way-I meant to suggest that perhaps Paul might find in the Menchen and Nathan thing an outlet for just the kind of running comments of books and his reactions to them that he would like a place for. Ask him if he thinks there would be any point in my writing the fellows about it. I know nothing of the venture. Perhaps the two are going to write it all themselves, God knows.

Surely things will come to some kind of a head out here in the next few weeks. I may however stay on the coast a part of the winter. I would so like to work unharassed for a time-if there is such a thing possible in the world. It may be only an indication that one is alive that one needs be shot all to pieces pretty often. I don't know. Anyway it is a consoling thought. I'll let you and Paul know as soon as there is any good news here. Lordy I'm glad you are having this time together. Bless you both.

Jan. 21- 24

Dear Sherwood Anderson:

A "cold" has laid me up for a few days. It is stupid to permit a cold to catch one. Yes really stupid. But it was restful to get a few days in bed even though a mean throat hurt like blazes.

I am readin "Cane". Georgia is enamored with it. I like it greatly. Some true music. And so fine.

Toomer has been to see us & it was a great evening. And he wrote a most wonderful letter about the tiny "cloud" pictures he had seen. I wish you could see them. They truly exist. Not clouds- nor sky-life itself. That Life that brings Men like yourself, & Toodmer, & myself close together- and women like Georgia- And some others not American-

- The "work" goes on. The cameras are still unpacked. But Georgia's pictures of the summer are framed & are strong & beautiful. Very positive. You'd like them too.

Alfy Maurer is a happy man. Hartley's suction is really responsible for this achievement. It's a story. Another. Weyhe is a good sport. An artist in his way. Your "Appreciation" of Alfy is fine. "young" America must break through- all of us together. Yes, I belong to "Young" America as do some of the kids I know.

- And Horper's turned down the book for their magazine. I feared they would. It's undoubtedly too free- not "safe" enough. I do hope some magazine will have sense enough to take it. Who is to do it in book form?

Of course I'm looking forward to it with more than even unusual interest.

I'm going to read "Horses & Men" again after I get through with Cane. Quite a few I've talked to like the book immensely. Some don't really get it at all. It's curious how terribly dead some seemingly sensitive people are. I'm always more & more amazed how fixed the American is. Or perhaps I'm sometimes a bit less patient with his static moving. Dare he feel?

I've been reading Fred Archer's Life. Archer was possibly the greatest jockey of all time- an incredible being. Shot himself at 29 in a delirium having wasted down to ride in a race which was to net him a cool four hundred thousand if he won. In a field of 30 horses he was beaten a head. He rode about 6000 races- & won 2700. Think of such a record. I love to read about those real fellows- All the ugliness of the world seems to disappear- Horses & Men.

- P.R. was here to-day. His revised page-proofs are in. His book should be out in four weeks. I hope it will make a hit. That is that it will be read by a few thousand intelligent people. He looks fit.

My Dear Stieglitz-

An amazing winter here. There has been little or no snow and the bright clear days follow one another through the weeks. It is all very well for me as I shall not be here next summer but, as the raising of summer crops, all the summer green of this valley in the mountains depends upon the accumulated winters snow the very brightness of the days now depresses the people. So easy to understand how people sometimes get the notion that their gods have deserted them.

I have one charming man friend here, an old judge. We walk and talk together or sit in his chambers in the court house and he has a quite lovely old fashioned library to which I have access.

I am glad about Maurer-a blessed man and of course such things are encouraging to all. I think everyone knows, who knows anything at all, that such things could not have happened but for your own figure and the fight you have made so often for others.

What I keep hoping is that you will not try to conduct too many fights this year. I do want to see you save what of your energy you can for more work next summer and for other summers. Do be reasonable about the matter man.

Tell Paul I had a letter from a lady who said of him that he was almost nice enough to associate with his inferiors. I am afraid she intended it for a shot. When you deliver the shot if it seems to bring down the game let me know.

I hope O' Keefe is to have a show this winter.

Love to you both

March 18-1924

Dear Sherwood A:

Just a word to tell you that our combined "effort" went off without a hitch & did its job magnificently. It seemed to be just the right thing all the way through- & always intensely alive. Between 2500-3000 visitors of superior quality. And in view of the many shows- foreign & Sargent- on really quite extraordinary. In a way it was perhaps the biggest thing I've done. Georgia is squarely on the map. And photography too. A complete surrender of all doubters- & all along the line. And as for sales after expenses of upwards of $1200 have been paid a couple of thousand may be coming our way. Important as that is- there is something far more important as far as I'm concerned. And that I believe has been achieved most perfectly & beautifully.-

- Unfortunately I have had to pay a price again. When everything was over I got a severe attack of kidney colic which sent me to bed. I'm up again going easy- but ever the cursed moving back of my head. The problem is not an easy one when one like myself attempts to go on keeping the spirit in a state of flux undisturbed no matter what the physical discomforts & problems may be.

- Paul's book is out. And I know a copy has gone to you. The "smear" of printing as far as my photographs are concerned is sickening. May be you received a passable copy. It is incredible what engravers & printers- but above all publishers- call care & "good results." I feel the book is very alive & really exceptionally fine in the greater part. Considering the pressure Paul was working under I'm surprised that he achieved what he did. I'm most curious to hear what you feel about it.-

- As for yourself I hope all is going on fairly smoothly- & that you are at work-

Spring is knocking at the door- It's most difficult for me to realize it for there is so much still to be done during the "Winter"-

Hartley is apt to appear any moment- he arrived yesterday.- I hope he will not be depending too much upon me just at present.- I must husband all my strength & all my will for the moving problem. Hartley is ever a difficult proposition. We'll see.

Georgia joins me in sending you much love

Alfred S.

It's so stupid to be ill. Inexcusably stupid.

April 24-24

Dear Sherwood A.:

So you are settled- And have a place to work- and a home. It
must be a wonderful feeling. And married. Everything clear &
clean. Our wishes are with you- for you. And with all those who
are helping you to be that Self which is productive- finely pro-
ductive. So our wishes are with her too- the wife.

- So you want the O'Keeffe picture & as I understand it seven prints
of yourself.- I think I can send you the O'Keeffe shortly & one
of yourself. The other prints I'd have to make later on. I haven't
been able to make a print or photograph since coming from the Lake.
This infernal moving acts as a paralyser. Problems are multiplying.-
Incredibly so. I believe I wrote you about Lake George- the death
of the old caretaker. Death everywhere as it were- very close to me.
All affecting us- adding to our monial work.- I am trying to simplify
the problem but it's slow & hard work- so slow & sometimes seems
impossible of solution.-

- By "family" is large & is ever living more luxuriously- & I'm
expected to find the wherewithal for their simple needs. What don't
I say to hell with all?- Why?- May be I'll be forced to or go under.-
Or there may be a solution. I wonder.

- You ask me about the terms upon which you may have the photographs
all I can say is that I can't possibly send you figures. You send
me what you feel you can afford.-

Our heartiest greetings- and love.-

Alfred S.

April 25-24

Dear Sherwood A.:

O'Keeffe hunted through the prints I made last summer in Lake George & has unearthed prints of your portrait which will go to you within a few days together with the print of O'Keeffe. I don't know whether you will consider yourself lucky or not. At any rate I'll be glad if the prints will be of any use to you.

- Darn this moving business- it is making me unbearably stupid. All there seems to be going on in the back of my head is: Move-Move-Move. It's ghostly because it's so ridiculous.-

Life becomes more & more incredible to me. I see it clearly enough. A Lord knows, feel it perhaps too intensely for any one's good.- It's that damned feeling- Duse is dead. She knew. Part of me went with her. She played a great role in my life starting over. 30 years ago.- What a soul- & what torture. I predicted America would kill her.- And it did.

- Georgia is away in the country for two days. I'm so glad. She has an awful lot to put up with my idiosyncrasies- the idiosyncrasy chiefly of feeling impelled to "help" others. Her attitude is much healthier perhaps than mine- but it is my feeling what I am which brought her to me. Gosh! I wish I were really worthy of her. It bothers me often to feel I'm not equal to what I want to do for her-

- It pleases me that nearly every one who has read Rosenfeld's book has something fine to say about it.- Of course when I say "every one" I mean people I consider worth while. Unfortunately sales are low but perhaps in time they will pick up. But it's not the money I'm thinking of but getting the book circulated & read. May be it will develop its own momentum.-

Our love

Alfred S.

There is the ever recurring Hartley problem- His pictures have been unpacked. The "virtues" of Hartley much intensified- his "weaknesses" still evident. I fear most Americans are inclined to be a little "lazy." I wonder is that the word. Georgia believes it is. She is not that in her work.- But the problem of Hartley of course is money- and that's put up to me- And it is not easy to get money in New York which is related to anything spiritual- & keep one's self-respect. That is not introduce a lot of humbug- the social game for instance.-

Hartley seems unable to do anything for himself- I have never seen his equal- But as long as I am as I am I suppose he'll never learn to try, try "begin"-

May 8- 1924

Dear Sherwood Anderson:

Finally the prints I recently wrote were going to you went.

We are under such pressure in so many ways that my critical sense
I fear is not acute- so I don't know are the prints really any good.

I sent them because of my good will. Sometimes I feel it's about
all that will be left of me soon. Living seems to become more
difficult every day- for us at least. There is no let up of added
& added pressure-

I hope all is well with you & the Lady. Our love.

Alfred S.

Alfend Stuyvesant,
60 K 65 St.
New York City.

May 21, 1924

Dear Sherwood A:

Phantasmus come night before last. It so happened that I was ready to read. And I punced upon your contribution like some one very hungry & discovering a bit of bread not knowing was it fresh or dry or hard or did it "belong" to any one or not- just pitching in.- Well, I pitched into your Story & read every word. And enjoyed every word. Gosh, the stuff's alive. I laughed aloud at the Cabbage story. It's a corker. And the picture of Father is a wonder. It's all great. Very great.- May be I was very hungry. But I've read it all twice. And the second reading was quite as wonderful as the first. I am looking forward to the June installment. I am none too eager to have the days pass by hard as they are- but I don't mind if they bring me some more of you in the Story Teller's Story.

- I wonder do the Phantasmus people realize what you have given them.

I'm glad that my prints got to you O.K. That O'Keeffe you have gives me much satisfaction. I feel it full of her & me- It's a sort of relentless thing- a sort of gentle hard truth- a great far ofness right here.- It's a great favorite of mine- probably the picture of O'Keeffe I'd want near me if I had any picture of her near me at all.

- There is still moving- but slowly the rooms are becoming once again free & clean- filled with space feeling- It's hard to believe that that room with so much light streaming in from above should be doomed within 14 days- be no more! It's queer the feeling to see one room after another which one has let light stream into pulled into a heap of debris- It is like the death of one very close to one- I don't seem able to quite grasp what it does to oneself for the "dead" rooms & the "dead" close ones- somehow still live so intensely in that damnable thing called Myself. Perhaps it is that "living" in myself that is seeking its release in all I do.- I'm frightfully tired.

I'm curious to see my old friend the Dying Chestnut on the Hill- What a wonder that lone tree is.- May be this year I'll manage to get a real picture of that heroic figure. I have been "looking" for years- & wondering how can I get the It down.- I have tried & failed so often.-

- It is good to know you at work- quiet.- Great, Paul leaves soon. I wonder what his new book will be like. New York is a terrible place- Our love- Georgia's & mine.

Alfred S.

Address until May 30th. 60 E. 65 St., N.Y. City. After that: Lake George, N.Y.

Dear Stieglitz-

The photographs came this morning and they are beautiful. Just how much the things of your that I have been permitted to have about me this last year have helped to make life and work possible it would be hard to say. What I would have done without them I don't know. The one of O'Keefe is I think as beautiful a thing as I ever saw done at the hands of any man. There is so much of both of you in it.

About the money-I will know pretty soon I fancy whether or not I am to get in pay for the Phantasmus thing and when so I will wait until I know unless it is going to inconvenience you.

Naturally I can't think of you in a new place and suppose I won't be able to until I see you in a new place. You have, by the way, sent me no new address.

Do be as kindly with yourself as you can. I am working hard and will have a book of some sort out of my system this summer. My love to you both.

Lake George

June 18-1924

Dear Sherwood A:

Georgia wrote to you about our arrival here.- Both of us were
pretty tired as we came. That moving- New York too-the winter-
the spirit of it- had been a little too much.- But here we are
beginning to be human's once more. The Hill as beautiful as ever-
& even more quiet. For Fred, the man, is gone. And Fred, the horse,
too. And the barndoor is tight shut. We are alone. Lilacs greeted
us. And have been with us. They are about going.-

- We are alone. Georgia is in her element. And I'm more than glad because of that. I do not miss people even though I like them in spite of what they sometimes seem to be- not so awfully nice.

- Georgia has painted a lovely picture. A most amusing one-blue & violet & a little light yellow & some yellow green- & white & one very black oblong shape. It has a very springlike feeling to it.- She seems to feel better in every way. In town she looked badly. I do hope the time here will help both of us in every way. The future is ? -

- The first mail we got here brought a letter from you. It was most welcome. A great greeting. I was very low in spirits- on the verge of caving in. No one could seem more useless than I seemed to myself- to the world. A ghastly feeling.- So it was doubly good to feel you in your little house at work- feeling strong- feeling so happy with Elizabeth. I'm so glad.- For both your sakes. Georgia is as fine as ever. Sometimes I wonder that she puts up with my low spirits- that she doesn't run away.- Of course I'm glad too that Georgia's portrait I made is liked so much by you- that it is a significant fact in your life. I feel it's one of the "biggest" things I've done. It's much myself as much as Georgia.-

- I have been reading Brandes's "Voltaire" in German. Paul left it for me before he left. A rare performance. An amazing one. Most entertaining. Every page of it. And I'm also reading Keysaling's "Das Reisetagebuch eines Philosophen" (also left for me by Paul)- which is entertaining in quite another way. Very enlightening-stimulating. Then there is Joyce's "Ulysses" I am also tackling. In short I'm really busy reading. A proof that I am in a non-creative state. Fortunately my eyes are permitting me to indulge- One night while warming ourselves in the kitchen Georgia read your "Autobiography" in Phantasmus. I had read it in N. York as I wrote you. The second installment hasn't come. I was delinquent in sending my five. But it went a week ago. So I'm waiting for treat No. 2. Georgia read some aloud to me. Parts that had specially stuck to me.- She screamed with laughter at times & asked me whether you had really lived that Cabbage story.- At any rate she seemed to have enjoyed you quite as much as I did.-

["- In a day or so I hope to begin printing a little. Make some more attempts with the negatives of you amongst the experiments I have in mind. "ew negatives I suppose will materialize in time. At present I'm idealess.- Completely so. There is the old Chestnut Tree on the upper hill still sticking in my system.- The tree is completely dead this year. A heroic figure. Most difficult to express. But I'll make another attempt.", "- Our love to you- & to all you love- & to all who love you.-", "Your old", "Alfred S.", "PRESERVATION PHOTOCOPY: ORIGINAL MATERIAL RESTRICTED"]

L.G.- June 26-24

Dear Sherwood A.:

It's a marvellous evening. A cool Northwester. And an intensely white burning blue evening sky.- Georgia painted 13 hours to-day. And now she is out in the garden patch wildly excited that everything she planted is coming up. A good rain yesterday did the job.- And I finally made my first attempts towards evening- 3 "cloud" pictures. I usually fail when I begin. But I'd like not to have failed this once. I may have gotten an "addition". And as the years go by "Additions" become more & more difficult to achieve.

- So "work" for me has begun. Besides I'm becoming an expert at dish washing- even learning how to cleanse greasy pans half way decently. May be after all I may grow into a useful citizen. before I am shuffled off.-

Did you see "Vanity Fair", July, with Georgia in the "Hall of Fame"? I do want to see her on her feet as an artist- that is I want to see her free enough to be able to paint as much as she likes. It means more to me than my own photography. You'll understand that-

- I have been reading the second installment of your autobiography. Have read it twice as a matter of fact. It's very beautiful. The book'll certainly be a marvel.- How many are ready for it I wonder. I think you have grown greatly- beautifully- There is volume to all. A roundness of sound- big- that of a deep baritone voice or a fine cello- or rather group of cellos.- May be that expresses it best. In short fine music.-

-It's growing darker- my eyes tell me to stop. They haven't been on their good behavior the last few days- may be glare & strain- or just- oh well- it's a great Night- It & we send love to you & to E.-

Lake George

July 5- 1934

Dear Sherwood Anderson:

It was great to get your letter. It came while I was printing a lot of "snapshots"- new "Clouds"- a child's portrait- some queer snaps of Georgia's thinness- There may be a print or two which will amuse the not too critical- & may be one print which will nearly pass the hypercritical.- At any rate I'm getting "into" working- I don't much care what is said as long as I realize that I'm still on my own road moving onward with ever new Vistas opening up to my own Eye-

- Your letter fitted into my activity, & into the really marvellous weather we're enjoying.- I read your letter at once. And later on I read it aloud to Georgia who enjoyed it as much as I did.- I wondered how you could take that book away from Jübsch realizing that he probably had most of it in type. I know how you feel about him- much as I would- and how glad in a way you are that just at present you didn't have to make that change. Particularly as you know what a "curiously" vulgar lot nearly all the publishers are- absolutely without a trace of finer instinct- & as for "art" it is so much sanscrit to them. They have no use for it. But it's a handy thing occasionally to talk about with righteous air. A slopy crowd. Didn't Harcourt inform Paul that his Port of New York is badly written & that it doesn't sell because the people are not interested in art & artists. The asses.- The people are.- If only they were given half a chance. I know I could see Port of N. York. I know I could sell Horses & Men. Didn't Montross tell me that Marin's oughtn't to be over $400 & in his own place, when Montross was ill, I sold a Marin for $1600 & Montross received $400 from me for the privilege of showing him he didn't know what he was talking about. And the following week after the Show was over another one was sold for $1600 & I let Daniel's have $400 because the man was a client of Daniel's. And Daniel's had assured me three years ago I was crazy & that no one would give over $600 for a Marin!! And so it goes. Asses-fools- so-called art-dealers. Didn't the same men claim no one wanted Hartleys & were willing to let me commit suicide because there was no one- not they either as dealers- who was willing to give Hartley $1200 for 146 paintings, all his possessions! Didn't I get $5000 at auction from the people?- And so it goes. Endless examples. Unfortunately I can't go out & do the same for myself. It doesn't interest me. And it isn't the money for the men that interests me- It's the whole damnable stupidity I'm trying nearly single handed to show up.

-Yes, the people would respond if given half a chance to work. I'm sure of it. But it's the rotten "artist", the more than rotten press-& the grossly stupid cowardly dealer & publisher with their "overhead" charges- their tale of woe- gosh! it's all sickening- it stinks.

So it's good you are to go before the people. Yes, you are a Voice. And you needn't sing songs or tell fairy tales- nor tickle the senses-there are endless living stories to be told without politics- without

propaganda- Yes, you have a grand chance. And the people will
come. They want to hear. They are interested in you & in what
you have to say to them.

- So the lecture idea is timely. It will help all in a big way.

- No, you hadn't told us about the University of California. But
it's as I knew it must be. Sure man you are a Voice. A manly one-
And we need Manly voices that don't become feminine in back parlors.-

Too bad about the boy. But he's in good hands. I hope he'll be
better soon. Tough luck. Still, who knows?

- I can imagine how glad you must be to be back amongst the Niggars-
& all that goes with New Orleans.-

Georgia seems to make slow headway. Stomach ailments are mean to
handle. I know from experience.

At present my niece, the Dr's daughter, her husband, the man of the
soil, & their marvellous child, girl of 4½, together with a Swiss
servant girl of 13, a miniature Dempsey in strength, are here- Very
congenial-

Next day.

Another day.- I was called away yesterday. And a new day has set
in.- This is to go with the early mail & we are to walk to the Post
office shortly- a mile or more there.-

I watched the sun rise this morning. And at the same time Huebsch, your
lectures- & all they signify were chasing through that thing of mine
others sometimes call head. I know Huebsch has his troubles. But he
also has his great chances.- I heard from "good" sources that "Horses
& Mon" was a failure from a selling point of view for the very reason
that it lacked the very thing that made "Many Marriages" such a success!!
But all that is beside the question. The reading public can be educat-
ed in becoming interested in the artist-in the writer- in the worker
because of the *quality* he produces. Every time I see a Ford car some-
thing in me revolts- I hate the sight of one because of its absolute
lack of any kind of quality feeling. And I try to persuade myself I'm
prejudiced even though I know I'm not.- They are just ugly things in
line & texture- in every sense of sensibility in spite of the virtue of
so called usefulness. And they are useful. But ye gods can't usefulness
go together with some sensibility.- But I suppose a man like Ford
sneers at such an idea. Yet Eastman who is in his way as bad as Ford
does want to pose late in life as Music Patron.- I respect these men
for what they are & hate them for what they pretend to be- their basic
interference with all that moves towards quality. Business first- &
ever business. Cash- And I respect business- & cash- But ye gods
must they be used to kill the artist- the real artist. Yes they must-
because he is the only free man- & freedom, true freedom, in America
is dangerous to the powers that be. And I'm not thinking of Socialism,
or Bolshevism- or Capitalism or the Labor question- I'm simply asking
for the right of the man who wishes to work to be given a chance to do
good work if he feels the need to satisfy something in himself in so
doing, and to encourage that need, instead of stifling it in hypocrisy

Lake George

July 8-1924

Dear Sherwood Anderson:

It must be sometime since last I wrote. There have been a few visitors- And somehow they do eat into the day.- I was brought up with the house ever full & seemingly without it disturbing any one- so that I can't quite accustomed to myself to the idea why any guests should disturb any one.- We're alone once more. And it's pleasant. Although the guests were pleasant enough. But Georgia somehow isn't as strong as I'd like her to be. As a fact she is far from well & has lost weight since here- & lost weight in town. It begins to worry me as I had hoped that here with the good air & the quiet- and the food she wants that she'd pick up. But I fear her insistence on all sorts of hours for food- any sense of regularity- & the overdoing of painting when first here robbed her of weight. And she can't afford to lose any. She must gain. So I am insisting on regular hours- more food- & much rest. It won't do for us to be "down." It's stupid. And we can't afford it from any angle.

- Your letters came. And we are glad to have them. So you are back in New Orleans. So many people love New Orleans- Well, I'm glad you are a little nearer to us-

And you are having your troubles about Huebsch, etc.- It does seem ridiculous that with the reputation you have that he should not do better- or really better said, do well for you.- But I feel that they simply don't understand their business. All are looking for "big" sales- self sellers- They don't know how to advertise- See what Harcourt Brace are doing with Rosenfeld. It's criminal. Either ill will or gross stupidity. Probably a little- or much- of each.

- I do hope you'll strike some one alive. Is there such a one these days?- And as for Phantasmus I feared from the beginning that that would mean "cash" for any one. Another "good idea" with no real capital to push it through. Somebody's enthusiasm!- The woods are full of such enthusiasms. An American trait.- Really destructive when properly seen. Don't worry about the couple of hundred you wish to send me- I can wait until you are ready.- I use the money for material. And just at present I'm not using much.- A few small prints made from negatives over 30 years ago- "old" New York- amusing bits. I haven't had the heart to begin work in earnest. I play with the idea. But I have my eye ever on trees & clouds & the barn- & leaves- So some day something may happen.- But to come back to your problem. I know how you must hate the idea of lecturing. But I suppose eventually you'll have to face the music. You may enjoy it once you get over the first "hating."

If I were half way physically fit I might "carpet bag" about myself with pictures & talk to the people who would want to listen. I've long had the idea. It would really be a lark for me. And I like

larks better than most of my friends realize.-

I wonder how your things will read in German. I must try & get
hold of something & see for myself. Russian I don't read. German
is fluent. And French I can read fairly well.- I can't quite under-
stand why "Horses & Men should be such a failure.- On your reputation
alone 5000 copies should have been sold readily.- Did I write you
that Joyce got a check for $31 from Huebsch for last year's royalties.-
Leon Fleichmann had a letter from Joyce to that effect. I saw it.
So there you are. Of course I know what the publishers are up against-
but much of their trouble is due to their own short-sightedness- I
wonder who'll be your selection.-

I do hope you'll strike it right.

Our love to you.-

Alfred S.

Lake George

Aug.7- 1924

Dear Sherwood A:

Your letter has been lying on the table since it arrived about a
week ago.- I have read it several times. It is very beautiful to
me- I have been very busy all week tinkering with a lot of small
(tiny) prints (old & new) trying to get them right on their respective
mounts. A trying ordeal for the eyes. It's sometimes the toughest
part of the picture making. I've been months sometimes solving such
a problem. One tiny print months at it placing it on a sheet of
paper! Fussing? No. I wish you could see the difference between
right & not right. In the feel. The release of spirit when everything
is organically functioning as one. It's a joy when it does.-
Life itself seems to enjoy itself with a broad calm grin.-

- And there has been some swimming. It's hot enough for me.- The
lake is perhaps my oldest friend.- Gosh! what days & nights we've
had together. On & in & every which way. Calm beautiful hours.
Mad ecstatic ones.- Dream hours.- Hours & days of quiet wonder.
Ever the same lake & hills never a moment of deadness-

- So the dedication to me is written.- Of course I'm very happy to
have you feel the way you do about me. I know I've meant quite a
little to many- not only painters & photographers but to scientists-
& musicians- & all the rest. But perhaps I've meant most to the
"common" people I meet casually- & have met since I was a kid.- And
yet as I look back- I know I haven't been able to "give" but a fraction
of what I had to give & so wished to give- For to me truly being just
what one is truly receiving- truly giving- all Light with all its
significance. I've given many a chance to be- & have fought their
battles- & created opportunities for them. Yes, I know all that. And
yet when all is said & done- & I looked at the sky & hills I feel
I've done nothing at all- am nothing.- And perhaps that may be a "living"
thing to feel. I do know every living & "dead" soul mean something
to me- Each moment has its glory- its pain.- And if I can make a
photograph hold some of that for me perhaps that's all the "tangibility"
I have a right to hope for.

And I'm having a hell of a time with printing. Eastman has gone back
on his own standard. The stock I've been using manufactured by him
has deteriorated in the last month to such a degree I am beside myself.
The war took away a paper I used for 31 years! Eastman is responsible
Or the system.- Finally out of sheer despair I felt I'd use Eastman's
postal card paper as a basis for all my work. That at least would pay
him- & was "common" enough- I had been using plinotype for 30 years-
I'd turn it into a living thing of beauty to "prove" my case!

- And so the prints of the last few years came to pass & all marvolled
how "postal card" paper could be turned into such beauty! Poor innocent
postal card paper.- And so I came up here this year with my negatives
hoping to make at least one thousand prints for I didn't know would I
again get the chance. And most of my prints exist only in one example.
Above all was I eager to get another set of my "sky songs." And when

I started printing. I found to my dismay that the Kodak people had changed the stock of the postal card- using an inferior stock- & had changed the image completely- a gray superseding a rich black- a dirty white replacing a sparkling white.- It is enough to kill a sensitive human. And no redress.- God knows murder comes into one's blood. These feelingless people do not understand. As long as there are dividends & the "help" is happy owning Fords & Victrolas & Radios & can go to movies of which Eastman has the film monopoly why the Hell should any one care about quality of a postal?

- So I'm slaving once more, trying to "adapt" myself- knowing only too well by the time I've evolved some way of turning their really impoverished product into something living by instilling it with my own life blood these monsters will be ready to sink their own standard a little lower for the good of the people- & for the bonuses of their workmen!- It's all horrible. That's why I feel I am a failure- because I have been unable to make people see sufficiently to have them up in arms against this insidious poisoning that is going on in their own midst- under their own noses- before their own eyes- so as to bring about a class of monstrous philanthropists who really hate everything that's got a trace of beauty to it- anything that's truly free in spirit.-

- In your lectures you can do much for the young. At least to make an attempt. I think of you speaking to multitudes- to youngsters- I wish I could be with you.-

The San Francisco paper came. I enjoyed the report of your lecture- It must have been a great event.-

- And now you are down in "new Orleans which you love because of the darkies. For years I've been "dreaming" of photographing some colored folks. But it has never come about. I can't photograph what I don't fully live- But may be some day- Eastman permitting!

- Of course I am looking forward to your Story- the book. I know it's going to give me a great time. I have read the parts in Phantasmus several times- enjoying them more & more. No. 3 of that magazine has just come & the announcement that your Story's publication is indefinitely postponed is amusing when one knows the facts. Why can't people make a decent statement. And "nearer" the facts.-

- I'm being called. So our love-

Lake George

Aug.25-24

Dear Sherwood Anderson:

For several weeks the house was filled with people- chiefly elderly ones- in trouble- seeking advice or health- or both- The kitchen was a centre of attack. Four people cooking & talking food nearly all day.- All felt happy- free-

Now all is once more Silence on the Hill. Like when we come- There have been raging rains. And the roads damaged. And the atmosphere is very heavy- and wet- Gray-

- Georgia is touching up some spots on a portrait of you which Huebsch asked for for advertising (publicity) purposes. I've made a print which will go off to-morrow. I have been tinkering some. Still full of rage because of the Eastman Gang firsting such rotten paper on us all & making my own work nearly impossible. My summer has virtually been ruined because of it. Suppose you wrote with a pen or pencil & felt that within a day or week everything you had put down had become blurred or had disappeared- faded away- would you write as you write now? You might use a typewriter & feel free. Suppose you found the same people now controlled the typewriter who controlled pen & pencil- & that the typing ink also faded away- & the paper shrivelled into nothing- just fell apart- they too owning the paper mills-

Hergesheimer & Anderson.- At any rate a kindly disposed thing on you instead of one of those vicious malicious born of envy diatribes with which the world was supposed to be entertained about you the last year or two.

- Kennerley sent me the issue because of an essay on Marin in it.- De Casseres also says something kindly about Paul in the issue. He (P) is due in N.Y. within a week or so. I hope he'll come back much fortified for I feel he may run up against rough times.- I hope I don't see truly.-

It is hard to believe that the summer is virtually over. There has been so little of it. Both G. & I like good hot dry weather. We thrive best in it.- There has been very little of it this year.

And now I must look after a mean little water heater I attend to.

Our love

Alfred S.

Lake George

Aug.28-24

Dear Sh rwood A.:

Good for the boy. Great. If there were any envy in me I'd be
apt to envy him for his great experiences.- Naturally I am looking
forward to what you intend sending me.

- I mailed you a letter just before yours came yesterday. Paul is
due on Monday. I see by the papers that steamers coming westerly
are meeting terrific weather. They are apt to end of August. But
this year the storms seem particularly desperate.

Here the day has been a beautiful one. But as Georgia remarked- we
cat out of doors- there is a sadness in the landscape. The greens
are losing their voluptuous integrity- a feeling of change- change of
life- Here & there on dying limbs of trees a dull brown group of
leaves- here & there even a few red ones.- They seem like discords.-
Strident ones.-

- I continue to tinker. A few more prints mounted. I have no
inclination to photograph. May be I have nothing to say,- Summer
rarely gets me going. It may prepare me.-

Once more our love

Ever your old

Alfred S.

Lake George

Sept.5-24

Dear Sherwood:

It has been a cut-up sort of a week- I hardly know what has become of it. Of course I've been "working"- or would it be more correct to say trying to work. Still better- that I have done many things & don't think a single one worth a tinker's damn. And Georgia has been similarly afflicted. Change of season? Strain of getting well? Strain of too much uncertainty- or too much certainty? At any rate there's nothing to "show" for the more than 100 hours of work I put into seven days.- May be that's good.-

- But the week has been far from uneventful. First of all "Dark Laughter" (I had ordered two copies) arrived. And in one sitting I read the first 204 pages- The book takes a flying start- & the pace increases as one reads on- If it hadn't been for photography "calling"- I guess I'd finished up in one reading. As it is I haven't gotten at the book again. I've read enough to make me feel it's a ten strike- or better still- pretty close to the centre of the bull's eye- I'm delighted.- More about it later.-

I received your letter with the check on the same day the books arrived. I had forgotten about the "indebtedness"- but of course the check come in handy. It goes nearly all to Eastman for summer's material- And the material, much of it, is bad.- The money though is good. I do hope you haven't inconvenienced yourself greatly because of me- At any rate Thanks.

- In The Dial Craven has a dishonestly stupid article on Photography & Painting. Somehow it fails to annoy me. And in the "Mercury" Seligmann writes me a fellow from Emerson says I'm a third-rater as photographer. May be. It's the best I can do what I'm doing. And Emerson- nor any one else in Europe- has had an opportunity to see any of the things I've done the last 15 years!! So it's all rather amusing- like so much authentic history.-

When are you due in New York? I don't want to miss you.-

- Our return is not dated- So much depends upon my breathing nostrils- & eyes- And they are affected by the weather conditions- moisture seems bad.- We'll see. I don't want another Winter & Spring like the last if I can help it. But I'm not worrying.-

- Georgia has her ups & downs- if she could only tone down & not be upset by so many meaningless things- A woman's & an artist's privilege- I suppose. Still she's very fine-as ever.

Our love

Alfred.

Lake George

Sept. 14-24

Dear Sherwood A.:

It's Sunday A.M. Just a little after seven. Church bells in the distance are ringing. And the skies are still sullen- days- a week- of cold wintry rainy weather- But ever the stillness- Such stillness & peace- And the furnace in the cellar has just been lit by me to take the chill off the house- & the little water heater looked after as much hot water is needed- Much bathing- It was nearly 2 A.M. when we all got to bed. Paul has been here since Monday- leaves this afternoon. He's in great shape- And Alma Wertheim came a few days ago, to stay till to-morrow. Ida O'Keeffe, Georgia's sister, the trained nurse, an extraordinarily psychic girl- very different from Georgia but much the same family roots- is with us too. And she took it into her head to read the palms of Mrs. W. & then Georgia- eventually Paul's- also a bit of mine. Such laughter- & consternation- she so quiet hardly realizing how funny serious she was- a soft quiet voice- But she did tell some extraordinary things that she could have known nothing of. There is no fake of any kind in her. You must meet her. And hear stories from her life. Amazing.- Particularly her love stories- And she is a virgin all the way through- & hasn't the slightest idea what that is were she told. She is 32 & for 11 years has been waiting for a man in Tennessee!- And you ought to see her out alone amongst the trees & wild flowers- well, an unusual person.-

-So, for the last few days there has been little "work" done but no moment has been lost by any one in the house.-

I do hope you are rid of your cold & over the depression.- Willis has won. So that is one wish of yours gratified- I know what it is to throw oneself into the ecstacy of anything- what the inevitable reaction. A natural law. That's all. But one does feel so way down- & so stupidly useless to oneself. A horrible state.-

- Here's half of September gone. And so little to show for the 14 weeks here. And I doubt whether we'll be able to remain much longer than November first. But I'm not permitting myself to dwell too much on the days to come. Every day is too wonderful not to accept it for its fullest & "nowest"- "presentest".- The richness of the moment is eternal. I'm getting much of that feeling into the work I'm now doing. More so even than in some of last year's real achievements.- There were some.

- And the day of your book is approaching. And as much as I hate to see the days slip by I'll be glad when the Day of the Book will have come. I am truly curious.-

Paul has been reading proof & has rewritten some while proof-reading

& in the re-written I feel a big step ahead- a simplification-
a greater clarity- fewer small curves- He's a fine soul.-
Lovely to have about.

- Again I say I hope you're better- cold gone- & you again
availing-

Our love.-

Alfred S.

Excuse the blots-- Everything is wettish.

Lake George

Oct. 1- 1924

Dear Sherwood:

The advance sheets have just come. Since Sunday I have been
waiting for them. I am excited. Excited as the day seems
excited. There were two days of wonderful rain, incessant rain
warm soft soothing as I haven't experienced in years. And I
love that sort of rain. These days ended September a wonderful
month for us this year up here on the Hill. October is opening
with the sun struggling- the clouds sullen- hills when a glint of
sun strikes them a riot of yellows, reds & greens- A Northwester
blowing hard promising bitter cold.- And here on the table
beside me lies "A Story-Teller's Story"- the advance sheets- well
printed-

Walking along homeward after leaving the postoffice I began
reading it even though there were intermittent showers & my arms.
full of cakes of soap & cleaning powders & a loaf of rye bread-
a bottle of synol soap, some sweets for the women folk- & myself-

I read & occasionally stood still to read.- And enjoyed every
word.- And was a br oad grin.- If that book isn't read then I
give up. It is simple. It's intensely alive with the essence of
life. It teems with a deep sense of humor.- It is America all
right. All this I gathered as I walked & read- & stood still &
read- & sat down occasionally on a stone wall & read- The dedication
is very beautiful. I'm not given to being "proud." But if ever
I was "proud" I was "proud" as I read that dedication. It is really
beautiful. And I felt "proud" for a moment because I know that
what you wrote so tersely so comprehensively so beautifully simply
was really true & that you, Sherwood Anderson, had "dared." Yes,
dared.- We live in America. It's a peculiar place. But I have
believed in its w orkers- I have found for them- their spirit-
their creations- How could I but believe in them & what they
were doing when believing in myself & in what, I was doing and
my faith is unbounded. The road is still hard but it is joyous
when one has companions like you & Rosenfeld & Marin, O'Keeffe,
Dove, & others very wonderful ones you don't know as yet.- I'm
in great shape- & the book comes most timely.- To-night I shall
go to bed early & read. I've got to get at my own photography now.-
The days are slipping by fast & I must use them for New York does
not give me a chance to do that work I do here. The temptation
to read is very great.-

I wish you could see the sun just now bursting forth- the golden
silver glow of the newly shingled roof of the little house I use
as work room- the blue black hill just beyond it- & the huge black
clouds over the black hill- The weathercock on the house dancing

Lake George

Oct. 4-1924

Dear Sherwood:

An envelope with double postage arrived to-day from you. You had forgotten to enclose the letter! I wonder have you detected the oversight. The envelope was sealed so no letter could have slipped out.-

- I'm reading every night: "A Story Teller's Story". Reading some pages over several times. Enjoying them so much. It's a great book. A rare treat in every respect.- Really delightful. A big heart throbs on every page.-

I'm sending to Huebsch for 13 copies as I want to send the book to people I know will enjoy it hugely. Several abroad.-

- Georgia did a magnificent painting to-day, Did five in 8 days!- She's in great form & has made great strides. Is gaining weight. Lives more regularly & eats with some sense. Of course her sister Ida is a great tonic & a great help- & so is old Catherine. Much is happening- & frequently we say we wish Anderson were here to hear the stories.- Some great stories- farmers, workers, people we come into contact with.

- It's very late & I want to read before going to sleep- More about the book soon-

Our love-

Alfred.

Sunday 7 A.M.- I had a very hot bath last night. Lay in it for an hour. I enjoy hugely the sensation of very hot water in an immaculate white tub- Jus & lie in it half asleep. After it I jumped into bed & read "Anderson"- for several hours- until my eyes hurt too much. It's a great book- really very wonderful in every way. I enjoy it as I enjoy the hot bath- the very hot water in the white tub. Once more love.

A.

The letter of yours was not enclosed in envelope dated (postmarked) Oct. 1.

Lake George

Oct. 11-1934

Dear Sherwood:

I must say Hello before the day begins. All are asleep still.- And the house is full for the weekend. My brother-in-law & sister just returned from Europe- he lawyer & musician, a very fine fellow- she a loyal plodding soul- both parents of an extraordinary blonde of 17 now at Vassar.- And there is Ronnebeck, Hartley's European intimate of Berlin- a sculptor in America since a year. A very cultured person (-a man-) who went through the whole war hating war very fond of Paris-speaking four languages perfectly very sensitive- & to be married to an American girl studying singing in Paris & engaged by the Metropolitan opérase. Alice Miriam. Maybe you've heard of her. He went through the war twice badly wounded- she, American girl working hard in Paris during the war, & waiting for peace & a job to finally marry her Prussian. The war over- she, a fine engagement for New York, half starved herself- neglected an abdominal pain- appendicitis- dead in a few days.- "Helped" by a few rich Americans to study but they stinted her at the end because she was singing some "modern" music & they couldn't support a red- Such a fine soul lost to the devil. And so the shrinking of the income didn't permit her to allow herself the luxury of a doctor- except when too late!

- Well, Ronnebeck is here for a few days on his way to New York. He was at Lake Placid all summer trying to sell a few drawings & make some "contacts."- Lived at the "Lantern" branch of a Washington Bookshop.- He may teach skiing there at $500 a month this winter. Has had the offer. Lou Tellegen wants him to go to the movies in Hollywood & promised to have him come out. So Ronnebeck is waiting to hear.- Heaven knows where "Lou" is- Farrar's ex-husband. In the meantime he goes to New York on Tuesday.- A fine sensitive fellow-

- Yesterday afternoon as I went for the mail the drugstore was filled with villagers listening to the Radio-Baseball.- Washington. My heart nearly stood still when I was informed that it was the last half of the 11th inning - tie.- And then came the twelfth. The suspense. I've been rooting for Washington for years. Just a feeling.- Yes, years, and here was Johnson in the box in the final tie after having lost two games for the team & all the U.S.A. rooting for him. Johnson called in to win this final game- Gosh! talk about breathless moments- Washington wins!- Georgia was with me, we had rowed down- the Lake amazingly beautiful- the shores gorgeous- & such a sky.- Well, I was glad that the ballgame had gone as it did- as I hope that Epinard wins at Latonia to-day after two nose defeats due to rough tactics on the part of Zev & Wise Counsellor. Ida O'Keeffe is amazed at my enthusiasm & knowledge about baseball. She says she didn't know I was a bit interested.-Well, Anderson, I am reading your book in the spirit in which I listened for that final inning's result - & look at the skies &

Watch the Hill's & their life- I read pages & pages of the book over & over again with intense joy- I hardly get the story ( of course I get it) but it's the spirit that soaks into me- & I think the Spirit running through the whole book very wonderful- & very beautiful.

Of course as to form why some pages are more solid than others- more deeply rooted perhaps - but all in all I live for the pleasure ( all the instruments playing ) - the pleasure the book gives me is, I know, lasting, what I may feel as not quite so solid now- who knows whether that is not an integral part of the spirit Anderson- & so really solid in its way.-

I do like the book greatly.- It's so generous - There is no unkindness in it - Yet it is full of fine irony & humor - full of subtle criticism.-

I'm expecting the ten books I've ordered from Huebsch. I'm eager to send them out into the world. - I'll order more later I know. - People should read. Should have the book- Have it lying about - to glance into at odd moments -I'm sure it will always put them into good humor- except those very wise literary Intellectuals which are not quite as abundant as the dying Chestnut Trees in this U.S.A. Those follows do bore me. They are worse than academicians. They served a purpose perhaps for a while - but when "intellectualism" begins to putrefy- enough said.-

The house is stirring.

Our love to you & E.

Alfred

Of course while listening for the final return of the baseball Drama I was wondering would a crowd of Americans ever stand Before a picture of real value with a fraction of the enthusiasm spent on baseball. Or read a real book with enthusiasm so genuine- so palpitating? - So you see that is ever in my mind - the Oneness of Wonder - Life- the Universe - the Soul

Lake George

Oct.27-24

Dear Sherwood:

A new week. One is conscious of the fact even though Time may seem to have lost all significance- living as we do up here on the Hill. The weather continues indecently beautiful. A gentle breeze brings about a shower of falling leaves- but there are but few breezes- Nature seems as if in a state of complete dolce far niente- conscious enjoyment of its own being- just being. The trance on the Hill continues. Ida O'Keeffe says the Magic Bug has all of us- & every one coming to the Hill is at once seized by it. Work?- Yes, some. But I have to kick myself into action otherwise I'd become the counterpart of Nature's dolce far niente state too-

Georgia has done some amazing canvasses. Intimately related to the early drawings which so overwhelmed me when brought to me the first time back in 1916. I think you'll be much affected when you see them.- She's in a great condition.-

- Yesterday Ida received a letter from Paul. In it he speaks of your book. The success it's meeting with. That a second edition is being printed. Well, dear old fellow, all that makes me very happy- for your sake, our sakes- & above all America's sake. I knew that if ever a live book had been written it was this book of yours.- I knew that if the people & critics weren't completely dead they'd have to read the book- & couldn't but help enjoy. Deeply enjoy.

- I'm sure too that in Europe the book will make a deep impression. Every now & then I take a peep into its pages- like a fellow I goes to the cupboard & takes out a bottle & drinks a glass- just for company's sake. I don't drink- often ↓ wish I did.- But I guess I drink in a different way.- I have a copy of the book in different rooms so that I can peep as the impulse moves no matter what else ↓ may be doing. And I always come away with an inner grin- like the fellow who has warmed up inside must grin to himself.-

I'm hoping Georgia will soon be in a state to read it. Probably not before we get to town. She's too full of paint & just living. She can't read as I do. I'm sure she'll be in for a great treat & great surprise. I never try to influence her- that is take her away from her own development. Real growth- unfolding- is often a very slow affair- There may be growth seemingly in one direction at the expense of another direction- But what I mean an unfolding of a oneness- a moving out 360 degrees- That is rare & may only come after a certain amount of experience in life- hard living.-

Well, we send our love. Georgia is as happy as I am that the book is a "go"- I hope it will run into very many editions- & I hope you'll get some real cash out of it too.

Lake George

Oct. 29-31

Dear Sherwood:

In the third printing. Great. I hope there'll be a real run for
the book. I don't see how that can fail. Last night, although I
worked well beyond midnight, after going to bed I read the Epilogue
again- for the twentieth time I believe. Every time I'm reading it
it amazes me more. It is an astounding performance. But so are
many other pages in the book.- You have certainly _done it_. And
gosh- I'm glad. For your sake- but not so much for your sake- but
all the readers sakes- & America's.- And ours all.- But I do hope
you get some real cash- & aplenty. Huebsch ought to be a happy man-
not only because of prospective sales. And the run on this book
ought to start moving the others.-

Indian summer continues- The poplars along our hillroad are all
aglowing yellow & the landscape & lake are all bathed in liquid blue-
the feeling is one of languor- Venetian feeling on the lagoons on
a summer's night- Great for romance- greater still for maddest
dreams- perhaps a newer romance- or more than romance.

Slowly- all too slowly- a few prints are completed.- Just being
seems sufficient.-

I can imagine that Elizabeth must be very happy.

Our love to you both

Alfred

Nov.9-24

Dear Sherwood:

From many sources letters come with the praises of your book. So
far there has been no dissenting voice. I don't for the world of me
see how there could be any. Any fool can find fault. But the book
may be "faulty" in spots- If it is-then praise be to Whatever May be
on High that there are "faults."- The book is like rich soil. Rarely
rich.-

- I still open it at random & get the pleasure I get when I glance
at the sky- or hills- or trees- that I have known for years- & ever
seem to discover a new wonder- And I'm ever "glancing."-

- I saw the Herald to-day with Sinclair Lewis's article on the book.
Fine. I have a feeling - have had it since I read the "Cabbage" story
in Phantasmus that the book would run into many editions. I'm surer
than ever that it will. And I know it won't turn your head a tiny bit.-

Life continues here very intense- the two O'Keeffe girls & I up here
on the Hill. Georgia painting & packing. Ida running into the
woods & bringing home nuts & flowers- apples- a rare collection of
little "pieces" in plates & ash-receivers- vases- inkstands, any
receptacle- & the results are as wonderful as Georgia's paintings.
The same spirit. The same underlying impulse. A great loveliness.-
Georgia & I just gaze & marvel. And then she sits down & hammers
away on the Corona- having taught herself the touch system during
the last five weeks never having used a machine before. Such energy-
bursting health. Infectious.- And she's writing stories.- And she
makes our beds as no one else can make them. Truly an artist. You
must meet her. And she can laugh- The two O'Keeffes laughing- well,
it makes me grin to think of it.

- I'm playing around quite some- making a lot of "foolish" snapshots
something I rarely do. "Clouds" I'm steering clear of for a while-
I'd be mad, stark mad- if I didn't let up. I had been going too
great a pace.

- To-day it's gray & cold- I guess we're in for some wet weather.
It is sorely needed- Fires in forests all over the East- not a drop
of rain anywhere in five weeks- Of course it has been wonderful for
the sun was always kind enough to permit us to eat our noon meal out
of doors.-

- Our love to you & Elizabeth.

Ever your old

Alfred

Lake George

Nov.17-24

Dear Sherwood:

There's a gale blowing. And the temperature is zero. The
mountains look dark in the sunlight- The Lake is wild white &
metal like-

Early this morning I carted off paintings & photographs for the
city.

- We'll be on the way ourselves day after to-morrow. It all
seems more dream than reality- And yet there never was a more
living reality than this autumn up here on the Hill- For a couple
of weeks I was in physical torture & on Saturday it looked as if
I'd collapse- but I'm fine to-day- ready. I hope I'll remain so.
I don't know what ailed me- but I suffered much pain.

- Your letter came yesterday. Your letters are always very good
to have.- I imagined that there would be stupid comments on the
choice of your friends. There are always envy & stupidity- unseeing-
most busy. Fortunately your book is so solid, so alive- that whatever
may be said about it by any one- it will live.- And live beautifully.
That's all that counts.- I'll look up the New Republic when I get
to town. Lovett is a very decent sort. I wonder who is to "do" you
for The Dial. Gregory again?- I haven't seen The Dial in 6 months
so have no idea what its tenor is these days.

- It's going to be very queer to jump into harness in town & to have
to listen to the same old jabber about Art & Life & really all else.
I wonder will I have the same patience as in former years. There
hasn't been a discussion about any of those "things" up here in four
whole months! No allusion either.

- I haven't heard from Paul in a long while. I'm hoping he's at
work.- Of course I'll be glad to see him & a few others. Otherwise
New York means little to me except an enforced "Contact."- Of course
there is Marin to be looked after & Hartley-Dove- (he has done very
great work I hear)- & the "practical" side of Georgia- the problem
of meeting bills.

- Well, I guess I am ready.-

Our love-

Alfred

Nov. 27-24

Dear Sherwood:

Back in New York. A whole week already. Trying to "locate."-
Moving at top-speed but far from "settled." We have a top-floor-
a studio- very comfortable- very expensive (for us)- but it gives
us a chance to work. And that we want above all else. The room (303)at
the Anderson Galleries is still a junk shop & I hate to enter it- but
within a week or so we ought to be "settled" in both places- the gods
be willing.- The gods are the painters & plumbers & carpenters who
have to do everything over to get things from being too sloppy. It's
ghostly the waste because of the general sloppy attitude everywhere.
Every one complaining yet the disease spreading.- And I assure you
I'm far from exacting. But I can't accept 2 ounces for 10! in any
form- I may accept 15 or 14- may be 12 or 10- but not 2!-

- The Hill is of another world.- And Georgia's work as it stands
on the floor of the framemaker's struck me as equivalent in place
to Powhatan, the original in his Indian garb, standing behind the
desk downstairs, in this huge & simple, hotel-receiving the guests
& requesting them to enter their names in the Register.-

- We've seen Paul & others- & every one has social duties & is in
a great rush.

We do miss the Hill & yet it seems years away- Ida is nursing &
she writes she misses the Hill too- Another world-

Wherever I go I hear The Story Teller's Story praises sung. There
seems to be but one voice. I wonder what "friend" Alyse Gregory
has to say- she the kind one.- We like the room here. It's the first
real "rest" Georgia & I have had in years. It's a tiny room with
marvellously comfortable beds- two exposures- a luxurious bathroom-
all the hot water & heat one may want, day & night- & if it weren't
that it's too expensive & we do need more space to work in we'd
stay here a while. The quiet too is quite unusual. We'll be here
another few days as painters are in possession of the studio.

The Hill looms up bigger & bigger & it is too bad we can't stay
there the year around. It is essential we keep "Contact." It means
the hope of getting an occasional something to be able to continue
to work in one's own way.

- Alfy Maurer has another Show at Weyhe's. Has a few very fine
canvasses. But no one comes. Not even those who bought last year.
The excitement- the Story- is lacking. So why go? Why pictures?-
That's typical of "New York." May be typical of the whole country.

I wonder can I get another crowd for Georgia should I after all
decide to have another exhibition. We do not want one. May be
circumstances will force one in spite of our disinclination.

Dec.7-24

Dear Sherwood:

Paul has promised to let me have your Maurer. It, with Georgia's pastel which I'll get out of storage, will go to you some time this week.

- I'm awfully sorry that your financial condition should be in a bad way. I know what that does to a worker.- I feared the outcome of Phantasmus- But I was hoping that the Story Teller's Story was really going well enough to bring you some real cash- a good sum of it. I still hope it will. It certainly should.-

- It has been a killing week- all sorts of physical handicaps. Georgia a cold- I, pink eye- a partial rupture & a foot I can hardly step on- yet both of us trying to get things "settled" for a while. In a few days Georgia will be in a handsome studio & be nicely housed- right around the corner from the Anderson Galleries. Room 303 there still resembles a junk shop. I am destroying it ever smashing, tearing up. There must be breathing space. I can't drag the placenta around in the world any longer. Marin, Hartley & the others & myself must keep nothing that savors of "promise" primarily.- Dove has brought in his new work- most interesting, beautiful & novel. I am playing with the idea of a 3 week show in March at the Anderson Galleries: O'Keeffe, Marin, Hartley, Dove, Demuth, Strand & myself. Only work that has never been shown anywhere to be in the exhibition. The stuff is ready.- I think it would be the show of the year- & American. If you come north in January you'll see quite a bit that will make you feel rather happy.

- New York is certainly a diluter. It has been a frightful week in most ways. Many, many people & but few who aren't deep in trouble of some kind or another. I am trying hard not let my "feelings" swamp me. It's awful to register the pulsebeat of nearly every one. A disgusting weakness- But I'm far from being swamped.- It's the rents one must get used to. That's the toughest problem.-

To-morrow we go to New Jersey to get a marriage license! Both Georgia & I can't quite get accustomed to the idea. Marin is to be witness. It is to happen in his County.

- The world is certainly a funny old place.- But back of my head is ever a ghastly tragic story- I'll tell you about it when I see you.- If I could write as I photograph-I'd give up the rest of my life to give form to that story.-

- If I live long enough I may have to write it whether I know how or not.

I do hope you're over your cold.- It's fine to know you writing & so productive. I'm sure you are doing very fine work. Georgia sends love as do I- to both of you-

Alfred

Dec. 18-24

Dear Sherwood:

Just a very hasty note before running around the corner to my
Room 303 at the Anderson Galleries. Since yesterday night Georgia
& I are located on the top floor of a brownstone & story building .
There is a fine studio for her. The place in many ways is "perfect"-
there are stairs & a high price ("cheap" for what we have- but Lord
those American- particularly N.Y. bills- ever flowing) And I am
gradually getting 303 in such shape that you'll have a good time in
it. It has been a nightmare of a job- Daily destroying- stuff that
cost tons of thousands in actual cash- & so many heartaches for others
not to say my own life-blood. But one grows more & more relentless
with oneself as the years go by if one is anything at all.- There
must be room made for the growing & for that which actually stands
the critique of time itself. Yet much that is of value is often
sacrificed- & one really does not know so very much about the
critique of Time. It's all so damned relative. It's easy to prove
that 1 =0 if one knows anything about mathematics.- But I'll not
go into all this now .- You'll be coming along soon- & see for
yourself.

- I was sick abed a few days in the Shelton & that gave me much
time to become still more clear about much. And I had a really
grand meeting with the man who cleaned our room. In the Shelton
only men are employed. This fellow had been all over the world- a
Liverpoolian- Had been through the war.- A simple fellow. Big &
fine. He was the first one who really gave me a big feeling about
the actualities of the war- the same feeling I get about the races.
He has been at the Grand National Steeplechase often- (Liverpool)-
has been to the Derby & Ascot Cup- to the races in Buenos Aires-
says the fines race course is there- etc., etc.- And we spoke of
America & England.- It was a great experience- So quiet. So as if
nothing were happening.- And I told people about it- a few days
later (2 or 3) when we left the hotel I asked for him I was told:
"He was fired" "Why?"- "Because he transgrassed a trifle."- "Too
bad." It was a blow to me not to see him & give him something (really
nothing) I couldn't get over the blow & the new stewards said:
"Every one liked the fellow- we too- but there must be discipline."
All Englishmen. Discipline. I suppose so. Yes, there must be
discipline.

- I wonder where the fellow is. Undoubtedly he can well take care
of himself- much better than I can of myself.- but that hour was a
highlig ht for me- & there aren't so many in New York.- It's a
terrible place in spite of its mag nificence & littleness.-

- But we're under sail-

Georgia & I had a narrow escape. Marin drove us to a tiny hardware
store in New Jersey. A foggy day- dirty & easy roads.- We were
going for our marriage license. Marin did a stupid thing. The car

skidded- smashed an iron electric lamppost- smashed the wheel
to smithereens- bent things out of shape- We should have been
killed or smashed up in some way- well we were neither- We went
for the license afoot in pouring rain- And a few days later were
married. There never was a funnier marriage. Georgia remains
Georgia O'Keeffe. We're saying nothing except to a handful of
people- It's no one's business. G. wants it that way. That day
I went to bed with a rotten cold- The day had been raw- & cleaning
up at 303 meant swallowing much dust & dirt-

So you see things have been amoving!-

Your O'Keeffe pestel & the Maurer have been shipped. You ought
to have them when this reaches you. The Maurer had to have a new
glass put on it & I my being laid up prevented my getting to storage
sooner. I hope you'll get some real pleasure out of the pictures.-
I think you will. But here I'm writing a letter & I must be running
along.

- Our love to both you & E.-