Postmarked: Chama

Sept 2, 1943

Greetings to you wherever you are -- I was glad to have your letter
of better spirits yesterday --

and I wonder where you are today -

Wednesday --

Here -- wish the turn from August to September some
thing different seems to come into the air -- clear and a soft kind
of brilliancy --- cool nights -- so we all got up in the morning
saying our feet had been cold --

Johnnie is still here but is off all
day on business he has up this way and photographing I suppose -

Orlinda returned on the bus this morning -- her
mother with her to do some plastering -- so we have all been plastering
all day --

It is done with mud and the wet earth and doing things with
it with the hands has a kind of fascination for me --

I see it has for

Maria and Orlinda too

Even Johnnie got out and mixed it befor he left

Each one remarked when they came into the room "oh doesn't it smell
good -

It is a very simple sort of pleasure but there is something very
real about it -

Oh - I love this month here too -- There is just something
in the air that is different than the summer months -- a kind of
liveness

A kiss to you --- I'm going back to the mud

Thursday afternoon -

Again today no letter -- There was no mail at
all this morning so maybe the bus broke down and it may come later -
as the New York Times is certainly due today - It usually comes on
Wednesday -

The second day no letter from you --

And I wonder where

you are -

It is another beautiful clear sparkling day -

The little
woman - Orlandas mother is plastering -- and I've spent most of the
day watching and trying to learn how -- It looks easy -- really
looks as if it is nothing at all to do --

but one has to have the
touch and know the material and tools ---

It fascinates me but I must
say my efforts don't amount to much -

I sat on the roof with her last
evening -- the light going and a thin new moon high in the sky

Johnnie seems to be courting Orlinda -- it is
amusing ---

Maybe he should have a wife like that instead of his
blond one -

- Well --- I have no big news but the fun of watching
my mud job -

I'll mail this and see if there is anything in the box

Johnnie is going ---

It has seemed odd to have so many in
the house

A quiet kiss to you -- I am hoping you are alright -- and
that everything in town is alright for you --

at Mail Box

I was right about mail being late - there is a letter
written 29th -- Makes me feel better - Thank you -

A.S. marked: Abiquiu

Sept. 2, 1943

Postmarked: Santa Fe

Sept. 4, 1943

Friday afternoon

Plastering -- plastering ---
and I've been building a fire place -- decided I'm
not a sculptor ---

I'm through but I'd like to begin all over again --
Must take my little woman out to the bus

a kiss to you
I'll do better tomorrow

I have hurried so but I am out at the bus in plenty of time --
a letter from you --- but the paper is thin and will blow so
I will not read till I get home -- It is fun sitting here --
the car faced so I am in shadow - the late evening light bright
on the long line of cliffs ---

I was up with the dawn this morning

- had to go on an errand some 15 miles away -

It cool but fine being out early

- I am sorry to bother you about sending those photographs
to Mexico -

I hope the clean place looks beautiful to you - I know it
does

Greet it for me ...

Postmarked: Abiquiu

Sept 3, 1943

Saturday Morning -- perfectly clear and still -- and the house is
still -- Maria has gone to town -- Orlinda and her mother who was
plastering gone --

Orlinda is going to school again -- I have Francis
back and she is quiet like a little mouse so it is very still -- and
I like it ---

I slept so well -- and the morning is so fine --

Your letter of yesterday about your last day at the Lake
is very nice -- It must have been a fine day for you -- If I were
there you would be staying longer -- I can see all the place-- house-
barn - apple trees -- *uncut hay* -- lake and mountsin --

I wish I had been seeing them with you -- I smile
at your wishing I could see everything --

I wish I could too -- I wish I could
be at least three people all at once--

About Marins letter to you -- his staying in Jersey undoubtedly
made a difference -- We probably didn't realize the days were pass
ing in the same way he did when in Maine -- because being in Maine
he knew he would move -- I must get on with my day

A kiss to you across my still morning -

Postmarked: Abqiuju

Monday noon --

Maria back and the plastering woman to finish her job

Yesterday the wind blew very hard from the west all day and today the air toward the mountain has a sort of dirty dusty blue look --

I had a fine day yesterday --

Was out all day working --
am going out again this afternoon -- There is a very special feel in
the air here when September comes --

My painting of yesterday doesn't look too wonderful but I enjoyed it any way and have hopes for it --

It was very good being alone around here for a few days--

I have your first two letters from town this morning -
your getting out the wrong side of the bed - and your feeling of
being so pleased to be back --

Also I have a long letter from Rich
from Peru -- a fine letter -- I'll mail it to you after I read it to
Maria --

I sat up in bed and wrote some letters yesterday morning --
I am almost as bad about such things as you are

-- I am glad you
finally got into the bath tub -- you had better not forget how to
such things --

The Place White must be pleasant -- I wonder -- is the
office white too

Thanks for clippings

Be careful of yourself -- you know you can go up on
the roof of the building whenever we live - in the evening if you want to
-- It is a very nice roof --

Postmarked: Abiquiu

Sept 7, 1943

I sit on the tail of my wagon - my feet hanging off - out where I am
painting -- toward the mail box -- It is such a fine afternoon - such
a fine day - I wish you could see it - a half moon high in the sky -
the shadows of afternoon beginning to be long - the air so clear with
only one little cloud - a fair wind - and across the plain a few
bushes turned yellow - with the earth yellow strip on the top of the
cliffs - makes the very clear day seem to have flecks of gold in
the air --

These are the unbelievable days that make New Mexico seem
so very fantastic --

I've been out here in the wagon all day --
Tuesday -- it is 5:30 now -- My morning painting - very small - looked
like nothing when I took it in lunch time -

This one of the afternoon
I believe is doing better --

It is those cliffs again -- in spite of
my decision not to do them again -- I am at it again

Tomorrow morning I think we go to the White Place
again for three or four days -- if the road is not too bad to get
into it --

I will try to get mail out to you but it means a three or
four mile walk so I may not -- These clear days before it gets too
cold nights are the time to go -- I can't go there if it looks at all
like rain -- We plan to pack tonight and get off with the dawn --

Last night we were canning again till late -- grape jelly
and tomato preserves - I guess there will be more tonight unless
some one finishes it while I am out here and that is not likely --

We took supper out toward the cliff before the sun was gone -
it went down as we were eating --

Then before it was dark we went in

to the osnning

As I walked out carrying the basket I thought - how glad I am to
be alive --

I must get out with this if it is to go

-- A soft kiss to you through the clear fine air --

Postmarked: Abiquiu

Sept 8, 1943

Wednesday - 5:30 P.M.

And what a day I have had -- I was up at five and we
got off at about 7 -- I noticed some grey clouds to the west -- Maria
laughed at them --

I said we would start and if the clouds came up
we would come home -- That is just what we did - home for lunch - and
the afternoon hard whistling wind -- a little rain and a large grey
sky --

All the natives said it wouldn't rain -- I'm getting so that
I bed on my own sense as much as anyone else - maybe more--

And I
was very glad to be at home -- indoors -- all afternoon -- I even
went to bed -- And how the wind whistled --

Will wait for another
clear sky for the White Place -- a kiss to you

Tell Saga I received the cheese today --

Postmarked: Abiquiu

Sept. 10, 1943

Thursday Afternoon

--- Last night there was rain in the night -- today
it rained hard with much thunder and lightening -- really hard
-- and always I am so glad to be at home

-- Maria and I talked all morning -- all
morning -- she intends to get a war job when we leave here --
I think she should --

Much conversation -- many things -- she
is so informed in so many ways --

Then we had lunch out on my table stump -- the storm
came as we finished so it was good to come in for the tea at
the end of the meal by the kitchen stove --

Then she made a
cake -- I reading the Sunday Times-- The other kitten caught
a mouse -- her first so it was an event

Francis cleaning up floors from the plastering --
My side of the house pretty neat --

And so a day goes --

It is cool and damp -

A kiss to you --

Postmarked: Abiquiu

Sept. 10, 1943

Friday --

My letter to you yesterday did not get off -- The
bus had gone when I got out --

Last evening we spent in the
newly plastered room --

The fireplace I built has a fine large
hole to let the heat out but I dont think much of myself as a
sculptor --I wish to take the ax and break it down and start
over again -- but I will not -- it takes too long and it makes
my hands sore -- I get a cracked thumb from the mud and water --

It was a very raw cold damp evening -- so we had
a fire and felt pretty fine -- I slept in the room as it was
warm from the fire and my nose doesn't like the cold dampness
after rain --

Today I have not worked -- it was too damp and every
thing a different color from the rain --

However this afternoon is warm and dry and
fine again -- we are going to Abiquiu -- I haven't had the
mail yet today -- will get it as we drive out -- There are
many soft cotton like clouds in the blue

Akiss to you --

It is soft and sunny out -

Postmarked: Santa Fe

Sept 11, 1943

Saturday

I sit in the plaza of the city of Abiquiu -- population about 400 I think -- Too small girls hang on the car wanting to ride part of the way back with me --

It is about 6 -- our clocks had stopped so I didn't know the time till I got here -- It is warm but the drive down was good --

It is harvest time in the valley I follow part of the way down -- but the valley is meagre and the harvest is meagre -- still it has a sort of warm feeling --

It is astonishing the way one can drive through this country and not be aware of the little farms and gardens -- they are often well off the road --

Today I got a new tent -- open on one side -- room for two cots -- I thought it would make our camping expeditions more convenient -- I put it up out by the tree -- am painting --

It seems odd with all my outdoor doings that I never had a tent before. It is quite easy to put up --

I came down here to get meat -- it only comes to town on certain days --

This town was an Indian pueblo and it in an odd way keeps the feeling of a pueblo -

I had your letter today telling about Warner buying the two Marins -- That is fine -- you didn't tell me what he paid -- but from the amount you take for Andrew and the place I imagine he took good ones and that you didn't give them to him

Postmarked: Abiquiu

Sept.13, 1943

Alfred --

It is Monday afternoon September 12 -- the days do go by
--- and I could kick myself when I do not spend them well ---

Yesterday a couple of women came up from Santa Fe --- one I
knew slightly years ago when I was first in N.Y. She keeps my
cat over the winter --- takes very good care of the cat and loves
it --- the other one drove her --- They brought Mary Wheelwright who
came to stay for a few days ---

Such doings get me down --- It was a
great releif when the two drove away -- Mary seems like a queen in
comparison to the other two ---

We went up on the roof and listened
to Hulls speech --the radio down in the patio on the ground --
It
was grey as the sun went and a big white moon came up in the East -
as we sat there listening --- Mary remarked " A very good speech"
--- I said nothing but thought it very dull -- and also thought it
probably couldn't be otherwise --

Today has been grey and uncertain --
Two letters from you
and one from Saga --

You alone at the Place on Saturday morning --
Made me feel I should be near by ---

--- Maria always gets violent
when any one else is here --

I enjoy Mary --
but the house doesn't

beel quiet --

I have a sweet little man from Abiquiu - Spanish -
plays the drum like an indian - - painting window frames outside
and screen doors ---

I feel like painting screen doors with him or taking to the
cliffs by myself --- he tries to teach me Spanish --

It rains and is
darkish --- --- Maybe I miss the sun --

I enclose the Rich letter to you --- will you return
it to me please --

I will be wondering when your first show and what --
on the White Walls-- I can understand your
enjoying them empty --

Mine are all empty here --- except Maria's room -- she has
three of my paintings in there

I hear much talk in the kitchen --

--

--

A kiss to you

Postmarked: Chama

Sept 13, 1943

Tuesday afternoon 5:7

-- I've just been showing Mary Wheelwright my summer paintings --- She was much interested -- asks to be remembered to you affectionately and to tell you that she thinks this crop of bones very fine -- She was much excited over them. It is the first time I have shown them to any one -- one after the other as I did just now --

they are alright --

I house painted this morning -- every one did -- even Mary --

It is amusing the way every one likes to do a thing like that -- a little tin can of paint and a brush -- slowly and patiently painting doors and door frames and windows and screens -- I enjoyed it --

I guess every one did --

This afternoon -- a nap -- then when I got up -- the sky slowly clouded till there was rain -- I havent had the mail today -- will get it when I mail this --

The wind blows with a little kiss to you through the rain

Last night I had a mending - patching time -- patched a kitchen apron so that it looks very fine and well cared for --

Savine singing with the big indian drum -- indian songs and queer Spanish songs --

one with a particularly odd sort of rythm -- It was cool enough for a fire --

Savine

Sairno told Maria her beans were not very good and she was much mortified -- Beans she had cooked for lunch -- It was funny to see how it worried her -- She felt better but also squired a little when he said her bread was as good as store bread -- that is their ideal

Postmarked: Abiquiu

Sept. 15, 1943

Wednesday afternoon -- I sit at the mail box - Yesterday I missed the bus -- so your letter did not get off.

The sky is grey -- and in the distance long fringes of rain border the under sides of the clouds to the South and West --

I seem to have had a very busy morning but cant think of any important results except that I washed my bed blankets - However that only took about 15 minutes

The little Savino is still painting and trying to teach me Spanish --

He is a competentie -- and Maria says was put on the compass at their Easter ceremonies this year -- He has only one ear -- The other having been cut almost off is folded neatly flat to his head -- completely closed -- He is sweet -- at night Maria sits in the kitchen with him for a while -- singing -- it is very gay singing -- She trying to learn his songs

She went to town this morning -- taking Mary -
I think Mary had a good time t ho the weather was not good --
and
we had her eating with Sav ino and Francis and she isnt accustomed
to anything like that

It is raining big drops on the car window and flies bite my legs -

Last night we read -- Maria reading aloud -- on a Cooperswamy book - on Art -- Mary had it -- published in England --
I dont remember

the name of it -- I had read parts before

The rain is harder --

Ill go --

A kiss to you --

Postmarked: Abiquiu

Sept 16, 1943

Thursday Afternoon

Again I sit at the mail box to say a word to you
-- It is warm and still and sunny --

The sun hot on my back --

I've been painting all day --

It has been a fine day to
be out --
so glad the clouds and rain are gone -- it doesn't rain much
but it threatens to at times and that is almost as bad

I've been painting on two things started
some time ago -- One looks pretty good

Maria has gone down to Abiquiu to see about harvesting
her beans-- a cieling has put on beans yesterday - 6 cents a pound -
she had sold her crop at 7 and can't take but 6 - She is in a stew -

Savino finished his painting of doors and windows and Maria
took him home -- He said he would like to work here all the time --
The food is so good -- still he complained about the beans so Maria
let him cook them today himself -- He wants beans for every meal - so
their cooking is important to him

When I have little things done like that painting I always
wonder if it is worth the trouble -- The cost in dollars and cents is
little but it always makes a mess and gets ones life out of gear --

Oh -- it is such a beautiful day today -- still and
lovely --

No letter from you -- or any one else -- only the Sunday
N.Y. Times -- I hope for another day like thistomorrow-- am feeling
very fine -- Tell Saga the coffee came and thank her -- I didn't
expect it -- but it is good to have

A kiss to you

Postmarked: Abiquiu

Sept 17, 1943

Again I sit at the mail box --

It is the only way to feel sure to
catch the bus when I am late and seem always late --

I sat here last
night till the sun was gone and it began to be cold -- I wrote a long letter --

the second or third of the summer I think --

It
was beautiful sitting here watching the light go

I've been out working again today - morning and afternoon

It just occurs to me that I am sort of a poke about painting around here because I don't have to hurry like I do when I go away and camp other places to work --

Maybe I can kick myself with the idea -- It
was hot today -- and a little much wind but I enjoyed it --

Last night I read on the Sunday Times -- It always
depresses me -- Maria says I always get a special kind of depression
from the newspaper -- the world seems in such a bad way

I don't remember that the newspaper got me down in N.Y.
as it does here --

The letter you received in such a short time after I mailed it
I put into the busmans hand -- it didn't get into the mail bag --

Three letters from you this morning -- the Corwinshield
clipping -- annoying -- but you know how newspapers are -- they are
often very good at misinforming --

It has been a day with the sky full of all sorts
of clouds -- at times there were fringes of rain against the blue --

The air smells of rain -- with the sim shining it is nice --

We plan to take our supper out to cook it -- steak -- a real
event -- and corn on the cob to roast --

A kiss to you --

Long shadows of big clouds mottle the cliffs as I sit
here -- 6:15 P.M.

-- Friday --

Postmarked: Abiquiu

?

Saturday Noon -

I sit out here to work with barely enough on to cover
one from whoever may pass -- It is hot in the sun - dry heat -- and it
is as if the dust of yellow flowers is in the air -- There is something
about the expanse of sky that seems to blind one -- When I work I
put on my wide black hat --

We were up early - it was very cool - to
take Francis down to the nearest bus that would take her home -

Then we drove along the old dirt road by the
river - all the bush about four and five feet high flowering yellow
- the river banks high and rocky - only room on one side for the road
- a road of red earth - a dirty - rather swift flowing river - I
want to go down there to work but I must finish what I am about here
first -

When we came back Francis was still waiting for the bus -
It was way past time so we brought her back with us not wanting to
leave her standing out there alone -

The heat is dancing against the colored hills - - There was
no letter from you today - - three yesterday - -

I think the Air Mail
does not go every day - - or maybe it just doesn't fly for ordinary
folks like us-

The grass is seeding - it is the fine cattle
grazing grass here - purple asters are blooming too - They are so
soft they look like hair to me - fine lavender hairy circles with
yellow centers -

Postmarked: Abiquiu

Sept 20, 1943

Monday --

Noon --

It is a fine still warm day --
A beautiful day -
and it greets you -- I hope your day is good too --
Maria was up at
dawn -- so I got up too -- she off to start harvesting her beans.
I hope she gets some -- We are very different kinds of people and
I guess I am often hard on her

but when people are so different and
in the same house things have to go the way of one or the other and
I would go crazy if the house went her way so she has to go mine
-- It has changed many of her ways and ideas but that sort of
thing is difficult -- I have told her since the first year she was
here that she should have a place of her own -- She is the sort
that should -- She has finally decided to go next winter to the
shipbuilding and try to make money enough to buy a place she thinks
she wants -- I think it is what she should do --

Also a book to

finish --

All such things seem very far away from this -- Too
many things in her head -- on her mind or whatever you call it

Today I make the first effort to teach Francis to
bake bread --

She is a nice little girl

Saturday night we had supper up against the cliff -- that is
always an event -- A fire - the evening light - it always makes
me feel we stay too much indoors -

Postmarked: Abiquiu
Sept 21, 1943

Tuesday - 2:30 P.M.

I sit against the mail box - just came for the morning mail
--
I was busy all morning - making order in the pantry and dining
room closet and trying to find out what was the matter with an oil
stove that has stood unused since last fall -

I can't find anything
wrong with it -- but all such things take time and the morning is
gone - Oh - some exercises that I do almost every day - and a time
lying in the sun - making the salad for lunch --

After lunch a nap
and just now after I mail this I go on to work -- It is beautifully
clear and almost windstill -- and hot -- hotter than in some time --
I took my painting into the room where I sleep last night --
and
as I looked at it -- said to myself ---- "that is nothing to have
on my wall -- unless I just want to be reminded of this place" --
So that is that --- and again today I will go on painting on it --
but I seem to think I havent gone about this thing - the cliffs --
as I still must -- to make it something I wish to hang up --
I
really enjoy seeing my bones of this year on the wall -- they are
only bones used for something else

No letter from you in the box today -- maybe tomorrow--

It is such a beautiful day -- it is pleasant sitting here in the car looking at the long line of the cliffs

-- sort of a dream world ---

When you drive up here from town -

after the miles along the valley road you go up two good winding hills and come out on this high country -- it always feels so wide and free and empty -- lined against the sky with some very fine long curving mesa lines and the flat topped mountain formation on one side -- and on the other the long line of the colored cliffs drifting -- Oh -- somewhere between heaven and earth --

my place a tiny point down there -- usually the black square of the garage door open -- so small that you only see it when you know it is there

Oh --

Im off talking about my country again --

it is a sickness with me --

No one as much interested in it as I am

A kiss to you

It is a fine day --

Last night was cold -- I usually sit up some time in the middle of the night and read --

Postmarked: Abiquiu

Sept. 22, 1943

Wednesday A.M. 10:30

Good Morning --- again I sit at the mailbox -- just received the
Sunday paper --- Allies plunge in from Salerno --
also your letter
of Sunday with the Lippman clipping about Salerno --- and a letter
from Mary Wheelwright enclosing clipping from Maine newspaper about
Hartleys deat h --- Saga had written me of it --- as you said
nothing I said nothing ---

Mary has always gone to Maine summers --
all her life I think --- when not traveling
This morning is
somewhat hazy --- Where yesterday I could see the patches of light
and dark foliage or meadows and trees -- whatever -- on the Sangre
de Cristo Mountains some 60 or 80 miles away -- today there is no
sign of a mountain --- However - the sun shines -- a little pale
-- and it is warm and fine

I think there may have been a very light
frost a few nights ago as there are a very - very few yellow leaves
in that line of trees directly out in front of the house - at the
foot of the flat topped mountain --- the trees are about half a
mile away --θ The mountain about 15 miles -

Francis and I took our supper out last night - just as
the sun went behind the mesa -- It is so good to have a very little
fire out there near the cliff with the sky over head -

Last time I went to Abiquiu - on my way home I passed the
postmaster with his family - fixing their supper by a big tree in the
valley -- they asked me to eat with them but I wanted to be home
by dark - I just liked the idea that they were eating out there --

Postmarked: Abiquiu

Sept 23, 1943

Thursday morning 10:30

Again I sit at the mail box -- It is somewhat hazy -- I can barely
see the far away mountains -- the sun is pale --

I received your letter speaking of Crystal R - calling
you and the Brenner Pass -- When I read about the Brenner Pass in the
paper lately I thought of you -- remembered your stories of walking
through there -- even looked on the map for places you mentioned --
Tho I have not been in Europe -- as I read the paper it makes me sad
-- somewhat sick feeling that we as a people are spending and giving
so much for destruction -- Maybe something will come of it that we
now can not know--

Probably none of us will live to know-- but if one
has any faith in man one must think something better will come - maybe
because one likes to think it --

I sit here alone in the open car -- the sun hot on my
face and head -- bright on my paper -- It is very still -- only a very
faint bird chirp -- cars very seldom pass -- It is wind still -- Ill
go on to work in a moment --

Yesterday I sat there and looked at the New
York Times -- I have stacks that go up -- one that only has a name
astonishes me -- I don't know what the business is-- chickens or guns
- I should be very pleased but I also feel very sad -- There is a
machinery in the working of the world that one can not understand --
one just feels there is something wrong about it -- the forces that
make the yeast of it are way beyond me -- fortunate for some --
unfortunate for others -- To me the world has been pretty good -- and

Postmarked: Abiquiu

Sept. 25, 1943

Alfred ---

Saturday Afternoon --- and when I wrote you yesterday
I thought it was Saturday

It is grey and damp --- a little rain off and on -- I went
to Abiquiu this morning and it rained one way but I had a good
time as almost always have when I go there ---

I got some meat and
butter and milk --
intended to work along the River Road but it
was too damp --

Flora Brunettes husband is home -- a full blood
indian from Wisconsin -- works in the Indian Service -- I was
interested to see him ---

Indians like that don't look very different
in our sort of clothes -- well fed -- short hair etc --

Another illusion to shatter for any one who thinks
otherwise --

I had a lovely drive --

Postmarked: Abiquiu

Sept 28, 1943

Monday Afternoon -

It is raining as if it will never stop -- grey and
wet all round --

This grey weather has been about for days as I
wrote you last night -- Marias beans picked and supposed to be
drying are probably being spoiled -- turning dark -- Nature is a great
old girl --

It is so cold I have lighted a big heater I got some time ago
to heat the room where I work -- really to heat all the rooms in this
line of the house -- It is certainly a comfort this wet afternoon
when everything has a chill -- It is good to be warm

Yesterday we had Flora and her indian husband and grand
child-- I invited them for tea but we gave them supper instead -- We
took a long walk -- Oh I was interested -- and still I know that the
sort of thing I enjoy is not within the circle of their interest at all
-- He warmed up and became very alive when I talked about the Wisconsin
Indians and got out the drum for him -- it was amazing to see him
change with the drum between his knees and the drum stick in his
hand -- as an indian he seems alive -- as a near white man -- some thing
trying to conform he is very -- -- uninteresting--

Needs Mable I

suppose --

We are awful about having people come-- after they are
gone it always feels so good to be alone --

I try to train my meanest cat -- not a favorite --
still I like her -- she has terrible claws -- needs attention and
some slaps on her feet when she claws -- I can sell her but I dont
want to -- she and the one I like best are such friends -- do every
thing together - always have since very small -- She is walking all
over everything here and I have to be so careful of her claws -- no

I haven't been scratched -- The one I like best I've petted most so it
is gentle -- Oh -- My cats - but they are really beautiful --

Richard asks me over for this coming weekend - promised to take
us up his mountain again like last year --

It is very good -

The
leaves will be yellow -- If the weather clears I think we will go --

It was a wonderful trip he took us on last year --

Well maybe we go - maybe not --

A kiss to you

It has been really dark all afternoon

Postmarked: Abiquiu

Sept 28, 1943

Tuesday afternoon

There was a fine sunny morning -- but again
rain now 5:15 ---

My letter yesterday missed the mail --
so goes today --

I've been at the flat topped mountain again --
thunder is rolling around on it right now --

No letter this A.M. -- Maybe tomorrow

I enclose letter from my doctor -- I will ask her to spend
an evening with us this winter -- She is very special --

A kiss to you ------

Postmarked: Santa Fe
Sept ember 29, 1943

Wednesday Afternoon

I sit in the patio -- sun shining and big drops of rain coming down --

There are many lavender asters -- wild ones -- blooming and a fairly tall yellow blooming bush -- called rabbit bush -- it is probably a kind of golden rod -- as the rocks out there get wet they are very pretty -- As you can imagine -- I have brought in many -- and then lie about in rather disorderly fashion -- never looking as beautiful as they looked when I found them --

The rain has almost stopped -

I have your letter about Hartley this morning --

And speaking of death -- I think of it as the unknown-- and I hope -- barring accident-te be able to meet it quietly -- without fear -- just as a part of living --

I have not seen any one die -- if I had seen it many times I might feel differently -- you are the only person well on in years that I have known well -- it has seemed to me that you take the years beautifully -- I have liked the feeling that I have hold of your hand

I sit here looking at the sun on adobe - my wild flower garden - a bird - the distant blue mountains - it is very still -
I wish you were here --

A drop of rain once in a while but it is sunny and still --

In the morning we plan to take off early for Richards -- We will go to Taos I think -- it is only 30 or 40 miles out of the way -- may spend the night there -- We will probably be gone 4 or 6 days

If the weather is good and we go up on the mountain - riding and
camping -- it will be six -- We go over high mountains to get there--
it should be lovely with the yellow leaves --

Last evening we took such a fine walk down among those trees
down in front of the house -- It is low along the stream bed and big
handsome trees -- Looking about here no one would imagine there could
be anything like it -- Everything wet with the rain smelled so fine
and fresh and clean -- Yes I love my world

-- A kiss to you --

Postmarked: Sapello, N.M.

Oct 1, 1943 ?

Friday Morning -- We just went over the highest mountain we will go
over -- the fall color - bright gold and green of aspens -- russet
and red of oak stretches for miles-- and the distant mountains -- land
mark of all the surrounding country -- It is very handsome -- definitely
high mountain country - you would love it -- Yesterday an indian dance
in Taos -- spent last night at Rebeccas -- very pleasant -- She and
her man are raising hogs - have a fine setup for it -- well over a
hundred -- on a fine hilltop with a wonderful mountain view -- Really
the best think I have seen her doing -- She is as usual - asks to
be remembered to you -- Went out to Frieda for supper - she is special
as always - and was looking really beautiful in blue with silver
beads round her neck -- It was a great evening -- She also asked to
be remembered to you.

When I came away from my own place like this- I enjoy
it but I also always think my own place and food and life are best
and feel in a hurry to return to it --

However this country is wonderful and very good to be
seeing -

I also saw Brett - she is fat and fine and asks for you -

We are having a very fine day - going very slowly --

A kiss to you --

I wish you could see this wideness all in fall color over
the mountains

We will be at Richards in an hour or so

Maria sends the two little red leaves and her love

Postmarked: Abiquiu

Oct 5, 1943

Tuesday Morning --

I am home again and it is so fine to be here I
wonder why I ever go to other people's houses -- I always eat so
much -- and there are never such good things out doors to look at in
every direction --

I certainly like my own world here -- We got back
just before dark last night -- ate supper -- I read my letters - four
from you -- one from Saga -- very glad to hear of you -- We had
brought vegetables -- butter -- and cream from Richards -- ate our
supper and got into bed --

-- It was a beautiful drive over there-- snow on the high
mountains - aspens yellow and a soft silver where leaves are gone -
spaces of scrub oak on the mountains very rich russet to red --

When
we got to his house he was not at home -- Two men hunting for his
cattle in the mountains a few days before had found a big army plane
that had been lost the end of July -- He had gone up with a party to
get the four men found dead with the plane --

There was much excitement
- the army men with jeeps had gone up the other side of the mountain
to carry the bodies down but it was hard to get into the place --

Results we did not get our ride up over the mountain --
He wanted us to stay and go up tomorrow - Wednesday -- when they go
up to get the cattle but it would have meant three days more waiting
-- four days on the mountain - a week altogether -- we came home --
thinking we did not want to spend such a long time over there -- We
had thought we would ride up the mountain as soon as we got over
there--

Well -- it doesn't matter -- I had a stiff neck from sleeping

too long lying on my face and that would not have been very good on
the long ride -- The weather was uncertain too - So here I am home
again -- -- -- Wondering why I ever go away --

Sorry you had trouble with your income tax -- and
your insides --

Hope you are alright by now-- My stiff neck is almost
gone --

There was no letter this morning --

A quiet kiss to you --

I am writing Rich -- Chicago Art Inst. - to let
Dorothy Miller have the Small Ranchos Church fragment for the
Mod. Mus. Show --

Seems dull that they can't take some thing from
N.Y. but that seems to be the way things are --

No use to think about it

Postmarked: Abiquiu

Oct 6, 1943

Alfred -- it is evening again and I must hurry a line to you --
Wednesday evening - Sunday N.Y. Times came today -- also your Sunday
letter -- Your letter sounded a little bored -- or dreary -- I don't
know which -- or both --

Well -- I'll be along in a little while --
maybe that will be better -- maybe not --

Much of the way you are goes
on within you I think and it makes little difference who is about
near you

-- I am fine -- I didn't get to work today -- one thing and
another -- mostly unimportant -- but I hope to do better tomorrow --

Always my letters seem to be scraps because I am always on the
run about something -- I should write at night but I am always too
tired -- Maria reads and I go to sleep --

In the daytime I seem to
be chasing every moment with one thing or another

A kiss to you --

Pos tmarked: Abiquiu

Oct 7, 1943

Thursday Afternoon --

My letter yesterday was just a scrap --

I

almost didn't send it --

Today has been a better day -- a lovely still
sunny morning -- I printed again on my mountain -- sitting just outside
my door -- Am almost through with it

Oh -- It is such a difficult
mountain as you know -- it is so many mountains - I started on this
painting last year -- did not take it East -- last year there were
many unfinished canvases -- this was one of them --

A man just drove up - has 300 steers that he wants to bring down
out of the mountains and is hunting pasture for them -

says that if
he sells them he can not get what he paid for them in this spring and
they are again as heavy as they were then -- Sounds odd with no meat
at the butchers --

He has no place to feed his 360 steers and cant
afford to sell them -- Sounds like many odd things these days -- A
quiet live looking cattle man -- face a little like Sherwood Anderson

After lunch I had a little on the Sunday paper --
then there was thunder and when I went out doors a great dark cloud
like a big dark monster and fringes of rain over my mountain --

All

afternoon has been very dark -- colder -- and a little rain --

I

got out my various paintings and looked at them -- they are all
hanging but three or four -- I have an empty room where I might have
them but I do not --

The walls are white -- and
-- oh -- I am
absurd like you are -- I don't like to make nail holes -----

-2-

My new stove is very fine -- it makes three rooms very comfortable and all I have to do to regulate it is turn a little button -- There is a barrel of some kind of oil out doors that serves as fuel -

Since tires and gas are so precious it is hard to get wood -- also this is much cleaner and less trouble --

Well -

I'll take myself out into the grey looking world and mail this

Haven't had the mail today -- Saving gas

A kiss to you ---

Postmarked: Abiquiu

Oct 8, 1943

Friday Morning -- 9 --

Good morning -- It is fine and sunny and clear -- I was up a little
after six -- it was still dark -- Maria heard me so she got up too by
the time I had the water boiling for coffee -- We had breakfast ready
by the time Francis came in and were eating in the corner room with
the fine view when the sun began to hit the high places -- The room
has deep earth yellow walls -- one white wall -- bright red curtains -
a very big window on two sides -- it is the room where I sleep --
Maria looked out the window and remarked " This is like going
somewhere on the train -- I am going to Bagdad -- I had to laugh --
The Arabian Nights' story, she was reading aloud last night had put
Bagdad in her head --

I was cleaning a small closet when she came into
the room before daylight this morning and she remarked "Is that the
best thing you can be doing so early in the morning -- I bet Dante
never did anything like that when he first got up in the morning --

and my answer -- "Well I imagine he always lived in the
same house -- wasn't moving from one to the other so he never had to
clean his closets to find things he should take along " --

Your letter yesterday sounded better than Sundays -- It
is nice that Mr. Wner gets Camera Work --

The sky this morning looks as if our weather has finally

cleared-

There is no other news except that the kittens look fat and
fine -- Yesterday Maria took a chipmunk away from the big cat --
she has it in a box and wants to take it home with her to Texas --
Francis wants to kill and stuff it and wear it on her label -- I
would let the cat eat it -- so there we are --

A morning kiss to you

Postmarked: Santa Fe

Oct 10, 1943

Good Morning Alfred --- Saturday Oct. 9 --

As I write the date I say to myself -- how the days
do fly --

I was up at 6 this morning -- no light in the Eastern sky
-- As I lit the fire in the kitchen very big bright stars were
shining out in the East --

I came in and dressed after putting water
on for the coffee --

We ate in a huddle by the fireplace in Marias
room -- then as the morning sun hit the high places went into the corner
room -- I with tomatoes on a place --

I don't know what she had --
Watching the sun come across the long dark mesa and the cliffs --
Then the day is started --

Yesterday was a good day -- warm and still
-- I had a good day -- went out to my tree in the afternoon -- in
the morning at the front door with the mountain and a drawing of
something I've been trying to get arted for a long time --

It was a
quiet pleasant day -- In the evening a walk down among the trees that
are turning and the cedars --

It is lovely down there --

I was in bed

before 9 --

Maria much annoyed that I went to sleep while she was reading

-- I only heard half the news too --

It looks like a fine day out -- There was
no mail yesterday --

I will go out with this and see what comes today --

Postmarked: Abiquiu

Oct

Monday Afternoon - Oct 11 --

I write that to remind myself --

This morning I had your letter telling about James and his
taking the Autumn leaves -- Touches my heart and makes me wish the
painting were better --

It is 4 P.M. and I am tired --I've been
standing all day --

Oh --

another start on a painting that I like --
but it is easy to like ones start --

and for me usually difficult
to enjoy the finish --

It is an uneven day -- sun in and out --
all kinds of clouds -- sometimes a few drops of rain so I settled
down to stay indoors -- The house smells good --

Francis and Gregorio
are canning chillie -- it smells very fine --

Yesterday was a perfect day -- warm and still -- I was lazy
all morning -- read the Sunday Times a week old -- sat in the sun --
then after early lunch went out to my grey tree -- It was such a
fine still afternoon -- Sunday

A real sturdy sort of day -- as the sun
went down I walked toward the cliff --

Then with the night - much
warmer than in some time -- there was a fine clear moon -- I even
walked out to look around in the middle of the night it was so fine --

However today is colder and windy --

There is no news -- So far away nothing happens but ones
daily doings -- They are interesting to me but not much to write
about --

My new painting is big ---

Maybe too big but I thought it

that way so I'm at it --

Dont get too tired -- Your letters sound as if your
days are often a little too much for you --

A quiet kiss to you on a windy cloud ---

Postmarked: Abiquiu

Oct. 12, 1943

Tuesday Oct . 12

Good afternoon -------

It has seemed to me today -
a large and wonderful day -- Half the night it rained ---
then at
about three I saw it was light out -- got up and looked out -- the
moon was bright --
but huge clouds -- big soft ones on the horizon

--
I walked out and looked about --
the moonlight very clean -- with a sort of wild wind blowing --
The
wild wind blws all day today -- and such large clouds -- the
color all bright in the sun from the rain -- and such a fine wind --

I'm indoors - working on my big painting -- that seems large to me too --

It feels like our coldest day

I have your letter telling of Peggie's visit to you
---
the Warners -- etc ---

Do not get too tired ---

A kiss to you --
I'll return to my large painting
-- I'm glad to have these days when I wish to stay indoors

We just

had a sprinkle of rain -------

Postmarked: Abiquiu

Oct 13, 1943

Alfred ---

Oh my painting --

my painting ! It has me down at
the moment -- It was so beautiful -- and it seems to be running away
where it shouldn't go --

It hangs at the moment on the big empty wall
of my empty room -- I at a small table across from it -- Well --
maybe I can manage it yet --

I walked alone out in the red hills last evening at
sunset --- a particularly startling light on everything --

It is
really like walking through all sorts of earth red pigment --

Oh --

it was wonderful

And this morning I was up befor dawn - the full moon
goind down so bright that the color of the cliffs seemed to shine right
through the night light --

The cat started to walk with me but left
me for something under a bridge -- so I went on alone - out to the
cliffs -- and along the foot of them -- watching the dawn come --
listening to the weird coyote cry seeming to come to me from two
directions -- Then when the sun began to hit the high faraway places
I stented home toward the flat topped mountain -- all the plains out
in front of it looking so wide --

It was a fine morning -- has been
a fine day -- clear and cold -- I had your Sunday letter this morning -
today is Wednesday - Oct 13 th -- A kiss to you -

I hope this finds you feeling quiet and pleasant -

Postmarked: Abiquiu

Oct 14, 1943

Another fine clear day -- very clear -- I've been at
my painting

Last evening we drove down to Abiquiu and had supper with a
little Spanish girl and Mr. Body -- Her mother, here too -- a clean
- sharp - little old woman -- It was regular Mexican food -- good -
but I always like my own food best

The Plaza of the little village so still and
beautiful in the moonlight -- the little house we went to had very
thick walls -- all very neat and clean and meager --
It was sweet --

The long line of dark mesa back of the town seeming to
hang darkly over it all -- The bare ground of the Plaza sparkling with
the glass of broken bottles in the moonlight -- The river lined with
its yellow cotton wood trees -- even yellow in the night light as we
came home--

It was a really beautiful evening -- the sky startlingly
clear -

My beautiful world greets you--

And I kiss you--

Postmarked: Abiquiu

Oct 15, 1943

Friday afternoon -- I think -- the 15th --

Maybe it is Thursday -- but I think it is Friday -- Anyway
-- what ever the day it is a fine day -- sunny and clear--

And what can I say -- I've been painting all day except
after lunch I walked out some distance to look at two things I've
painted on some time back -- it was hot out in the sun -- As I write
I sit with my back to the sun - on the foot of my bed looking out
toward the cliff -- It is a fine sight --

You ask about Marías beans -- she finished with them
yesterday -- got only about 1¼ sacks to the acre because she got no
water from the ditch - Most of the men on the ditch didn't farm much
because from sons in the army they get monthly checks -- so they did
not bother to fix the ditch -- Also she paid higher wages than is
usual --

Well -- all she got out of it was that she learned something
-- maybe --

To farm here there must be a family -- all of them working --
children are an asset -- then if they own their land they can exist
-- after a fashion --

Old Mother Nature is a tough old girl

You would laugh to see the watermelons she brought home
last night -- I thought they were alligator pears-- about three or four
inches in diameter - a whole flour sack full of them so small

I had a little letter from you this morning -- The most
exciting thing of the past 24 hours was standing on the roof last
night with a kitten watching the moon come up

A quiet kiss to you --

Postmarked: Abiquiu

Oct 16, 1943

Saturday - 5 P.M.

The late afternoon sun shines in on my back as I sit
here in the deep yellow earthroom with its red curtains -- looking
out toward the cliff

There is some sage - several bushes right and in
front of the window - It is a very beautiful bush - a fine delicate
greyed blue green - the seeds at the top warmer in color -

I have little to write that is worth writing -- a
beautiful clear day - warm and fine in the sun -

Francis cleaned the
closet where I keep my materials- it is a bathroom I dont use -- Also
she saddle soaped my paint box - it looks very fine - She potted some
geranium slips I brought from Richards- I cooked the lunch - soy
bean sprouts - I am wearing that red flannel dress I made at Lake
George and have been at my painting -- the big one - It is a struggle
- almost over --

A letter from you this morning -- also last Sundays
Times -

I got out my packing box as to see if paintings will fit or if
I'll have to get new ones when we go to town -- to buy a board is
next thing to impossible -- One always has to plan ahead -- Of such
little things my day is made up - -

starting with a fine pure high
dawn - a little while lying in the sun after lunch -- And soon the
sun will be setting

A kiss to you through the clear air of my beautiful world

Postmarked: Chama, N.M.

Oct. 20, 1943

I am at home again - Tuesday afternoon - have looked at my
painting and like it --- started fires --- had some tea --- read
your two letters --- also the Artists For Victory notice --- I suppose
I am invited to be on that jury so that Marin and Dove and I will
send paintings --

I make no answer from here ---

I said I would never

be on a jury again

--- My prettiest kitten chased a white china egg that is
my darning egg about the floor in fine style

Well my trip to the

Black Place was terrific ---

We got there in the evening Sunday - it
was a fine warm still night -- very comfortable and fine in our new
tent --- Up before the sun and out early to work -- such a beautiful
-- untouched lonely feeling place -- such a fine part of what I
call the "Far Away"

It is a place I have painted before but I wanted to do again --and
even now I must do it again --

It was a fine morning sunny and clear
--- soon the wind began to blow and it blew hard all day -- but I
sent on with my intention -- at 20 to 5 I was ready to stop and when
I looked about there were clouds everywhere --

That was awful -- I
had intended to pick up our camp and drive up a river bed farther
into the hills to another place where I wanted to work today but it
is the sort of place you do not go into unless the weather is clear

--- Well we packed up -- and finally decided to camp on a
place we have usually camped -- a very good place - then - weather

permitting I was going to walk into the place I wanted to paint
I wanted so much to stay -- banks of clouds all round made me feel
I was foolish not to come home -- It would have meant driving way
into the night and seeing very little --

So we pitched a new camp
behind an odd little white hill right by the road -

Ate oatmeal for
supper and went to bed -- Maria read a while aloud -- She is reading
Tarus Bulba -- it is fine with the country out there --

Well -- we soon went to sleep

I was waked by a mad wind
flapping the tent and shaking my bed --

I listened a while - Maria
waked too -- down went one corner of the tent - we got up and tied
it to the car and put all our clothing in the car to be sure it
would be dry -- the cat was in the car too as we heard coyotes and were
afraid they might get her -- into bed again -- it was a tearing wind
-- we had much laughing as everything seemed to be blowing away
including us --

I went to sleep again --

was waked by rain on the roof of the
tent -- a little at first -
then hard

-- it poured and it blew --
-- all night the wind blow and every once in a while a new rain seemd
to arrive -- the tent rattled and flapped and hit my bed so my bed
shook --

We would talk --

then we would sleep -- always I was
expecting the tent to all in a heap on us but only one corner went

down -- over my head -- I propped it up with a chair -- saw it was
a pale dawn so went out to look around -- It was as dismal as any
time I've ever seen -- it was 7 oclock -- everything grey - grey
sage - grey wet sand under foot - grey hills - big gloomy looking
wet grey clouds - a very pale cloudy moon -- and still the wind --

I got back into bed till there was more light -- Bed was
warm and dry in spite of the rocking tent --

Finally I got up and into

the car to dress --

also finally a little sun in and out

--You would have laughed to see us eating breakfast --

the wind blew so hard we could only fill our cups half full of
coffee -- it would just blow away -- blow right out of the cups

So -- we packed up and came
home -- most of the 100 miles sliding all over the road in the mud

I feel fine - I loved it --- there is something
about being out of doors like that -- struggling with the elements -
that makes me feel just fine --

and the country -- so beautiful

A very little fine sleety snow flying around us all
the way home -- not enough to spoil the view --- all the clouds
seemed to be falling too

And my painting I like -- I think you too will
like it

A kiss to you --- this must go

A.S. marked: Grand letter
Rec'd Oct.22/43

Postmarked: Abiquiu

Oct. 21, 1943

Thursday Afternoon - almost 6 - sitting at the mail box

Day before yesterday I wrote so long on my letter
to you that think it missed the mail so yesterday I was very busy
and tired and did not write -

When I waked and looked out yesterday
morning the ground was almost white with snow and the big dark for-
bidding snow clouds were still about -

it was cold -

and I was not

sorry that I was not out in that tent --

And I went out in my

wrapper and up on the roof to look about at the world --

Finally I spent the day packing paintings -- That is not
my idea of a good time but it was not as difficult as it often has
been -- I did not close them as I did want to work some more --
Marie went to town shopping -- I got into bed a little after six
and she returned a little before dark --

For some odd reason that I can not explain the news
of the town and country side as one gets it when one goes out for
food is very exciting -- so exciting that it always amuses me --

-- So there was much talking about local doings --
who was seen drunk -- about crops -- tires -- delivering beans --
oh just nothing but of interest when you live here --

Someones relations and this and that

Today is a warm almost cloudless day --

We had to go to

Abiquiu again and then drive along the old road under or near the
very yellow cottonwoods was very beautiful --Maria went to get
her cabbages -- she just didn't get around to it before - except
that she once brought one -- they have been ready to eat for a

month --- they had all been stolen --

It was particularly funny to me
because we had rather sharp words this morning when I told her she
was careless

The results of her farming would not pay for the gas
she has used --

if you bother to raise a cabbage I think you had
better bother to pick it when it is ready to eat and not let some
one else who knows the meaning of farming pick it because they
probably need it or think it will freeze -- or think you just dont
care because you leave it there so long --

Food is too scarce in this
country for any one to want to see it waste --

A kiss to you -- The bus is coming

Postmarked: Abiquiu

Oct. 22, 1943

Friday Morning Oct. 22 --

I seem to begin the day with a small blot -- but it doesn't look too bad --

Last evening I went to bed before the sun went down and watched it go. I was so absurdly tired and wanted to be by myself. We had eaten our noon meal about 5 on my stump table out at the side of the house toward the red hills -- steak cooked out there on the cedar coals -- carrots -- green chilly with garlic -- the last cucumber and some radishes Maria brought from town. I ate a great deal -- drove out to the mail box in the open car -- sat there and wrote my letter -- came in and went to bed.

At 9 Maria came in -- we listened to the news and she read aloud -- Taras Bulba -- till I began to go to sleep --

It was a good night. The morning is blue and white all over, making the light seem pale.

A morning kiss to you -- Ill mail this as I go to the box to get the mail --

I hope it finds you quiet --

Fairly fit --

Postmarked: Abiquiu

Oct. 23, 1943

Good Morning --

Saturday Morning --

It is a fine morning -- clear and still and I am fine

Johnnie was here yesterday afternoon and evening -- did
not stay the night --- He brought his book -- not perfect but very
good -- It will please you --- his part will please you --

The binding isn't so good -- isn't in character with
his prints --

He is going to try to have it changed -- but ?

However -- it will please you any way. He has a couple of new things
that are very fine -- a portrait of a man --- I buy a print of it
--- and a portrait of a girl -- with a charming mole --- very
beautiful -- We sat by the fire till about 10:30 --

Then he went home He had photographed both Maria and
me but I expect nothing of it -- also photographed some of the
roof --

I expect no results

I worked on an old painting yesterday

Will again today too --

Do not send any more mail to me -- I will be there by
the end of next week

I hope you will like seeing me as much as my letters

A kiss to you

Johnnie is going to N.Y. on Nov. 4th so you will be seeing him
and his book soon --

Postmarked: Abiquiu

Oct 24, 1943

Thanks for Shaw and Churchill clipping --

I am glad the N.E. Room looks beautiful to you --

Maria returned from her bean harvest yesterday so a tiff
from picking beans -- and upset in her insides from fatigue and greasy
food - She is so big it is sad when she gets broken down -- She is
better today but still very stiff about sitting and bending --

She

was much pleased to have your better -- particularly when so down

-- It is grey -- warm -- odd weather for three days -- The
sort of days you want to wait and see what is going to happen from
the sky

Cool enough for a fire in my new fire place at night and
breakfast time

Maria read aloud last night -- Arabian Nights -- They are
certainly great tales -- You would have enjoyed last night's stories--

I have a note from Henwar today

Maybe he and his girl friend will come out - I hope

so

It is Saturday --

I hope you are having a good day

A quiet kiss to you --