291 Fifth Ave., New York.

July 7, 1914.

How mean that I should have missed you when you came to "291" before you left.
I had hoped to have another real talk with you, and I had also hoped to take a
picture of you. Everything was prepared for that. Somehow or other I just felt
like it. There was something about your expression which I wanted to record. Well,
it seems it was not to be. Perhaps some other time. Between the dentist and other
personal matters, all of which I had neglected for a very long time, I was finally
compelled to absent myself from "291" occasionally for a few hours, and that is
the reason I missed you. Well, I am glad you are in the country. I know how bad-
ly you needed it. Above all I hope you will get that rest which you so yearned
for. It is not an easy thing to get, except physical perhaps. But that is not a
real rest. We need both physical and mental rest--at intervals at least.

I hope you are having better weather than we are having here. It is cold and
dreary in New York. Perhaps you don't mind continued dreyness and dampness. I do.
I like it vor a while but finally it gets on my nerves. Of course I prefer it to
eternal sunshine. That is still worse. I wish I had been able to manage to get
up to your studio before you left and see your work again. And also to receive
some of those MSS. Both your work in painting and in writing have been much in
my mind. But this too was not to be, and I shall have to wait until the autumn.

There is one thing I wish to remind you of and that is not to forget that I
am counting on you to write a little something for that "291" Special Number. I
know you are one of the few who really feel something about it. I am sending you,
under separate cover, the latest Number of "Camera Work". It contains some things
which will surely interest you. Let me here from you occasionally. With greetings,
as always,

Yours

Do you like this paper for the typewriter? I am trying some different kinds - and at the same time trying to decide whether to take the machine away with me this summer - I would like to master it a little better - I hate having things that I don't know how to use properly.

But I don't know if I would get much practise on it -

It amuses me

I could almost write letters to myself on a typewriter! as it is always a surprise to see what I have written - and then -

Analysing again!

You were surprised at my saying I thought we were all of us doing too much of it - but I really think it's true - you too - you don't agree - try not doing it for a while and see if there's not some truth in what I say.

It's the subjectivity of the introspection - the hyper-criticalness - or anything else you want to call it -, that makes the atmosphere so tense that most of us are ready to blow up.

Too much thinking and wondering and sensing and - all the rest of it - instead of just plain going ahead and doing - physical - manual if one wants - but keeping busy enough with some kind of work, to give the brain a rest from this "in-growing" tendency.

That's what I need - I'm sure of that -

My brain is getting all stewed up with weighing things - and trying to become conscious of everyone's else's point of view - and it's not an invigorating pastime -

One's body one tries now and then to keep fairly normal - one's mind must be kept healthy -

I guess mine isn't -

Who's is ?

It's partially New York - partially each one's own fault - And I think it's up to each one to try to stop it - (This is not directed against anyone - or towards anyone in particular, tho' I could name a lot whom I thought it might be true of) It is just what I've been thinking about -

I feel that something must be done -

There is so much to be done - Life is so unspeakably short - every moment ought to count for so much - no matter where we are, or with whom - and isn't it our own faults if each moment doesn't count for a lot?

Can't we forget ourselves? That's the question I put to my self over and over again - What's the use of wanting - so hard -

Does it matter ? as against all we can be and do irrespective of our own "wants" -

That is what I have been asking myself - and what I feel to-night that is the trouble with all this state of upsetness and nervousness and worry and losing grip -

Perhaps all of this is the result of one pretty difficult hour I had - yesterday P.M. - thank goodness I was entirely alone - I even sent the servants out - and I think I got hold of myself - through realizing the danger of self-analysis -

At any rate - I had a pretty good outer hold at least - before I spoke to anyone - and the walls have forgotten - and everything's all right.

Written to
Shears

NEW YORK
JUN 14
1230 AM
1915
STAG

C

# The Gallic Lark and the Sow-on-the-Rhine

—To France in Arms

THE LARK (whirling in the azure):

I orbit in the suns of my Vision, my heart is
the Grail of Life.

I am France, the Athens of Europe, Dionysiac,
singing in strife.

THE SOW-ON-THE-RHINE:

I am the mother of nations, I am the savior
of men,

I am the Sphinx and Revealer—thou art but a
winged hen.

THE LARK:

I sing the Song of the Ages, I sing the song
of the free,

I sang in the heart of Ronsard, and the Voice
in the Maid was of me!

THE SOW-ON-THE-RHINE:

Give me your wings and your lightness, give
me your dreams and your Eye—

I hate thee, I love thee, thou wild bird—come
down and live in my sty.

THE LARK:

O Sow that would be Alborak! O Sow of
Elysian dreams!

Thy sty is the dung-pit of learning, thy snout
with Flemish blood gleams.

THE SOW-ON-THE-RHINE:

Curse thy lilt and thy wild heart, curse the air
and the light thou dost cleave!

Curse the Song thou dost sing to thy Loved
Ones, who of thy songs Victory weave!

THE LARK:

I orbit in the suns of my Vision, my heart is a
Grail and an Inn;

My songs have anealed into iron, old Sow with
the helmet of tin!

NEW YORK CITY, 1915. —Benjamin De Casseres

He obtained deeds. His scheme approach a real estate agent and pretend that he wanted to buy property.

SALAD DRESSING

From Washington, D.C., United States representatives have been to get this evidence. for the Western instance of two telegraph sent to Counterman Ambassador.

The telegram is all that used in the to Cramer, the employee, to blow

of telegrams for
erator. "I have
it von Bernstorff
the contents of
all rather brief
bearing on the
ves from Gary-
tten in the am-
 messages."

Co.
Avenue

Stock.

width.
blue 4.50
or Black.
blue 1.50
les wide.
blue 2.00

oves.

Black.

attrac-
ash.
variety of
eaters,

The John Wanamaker Store

The First Camera to Make
PICTURES IN COLORS

That Can Be Shown on Paper

On October 16, 1839, Joseph Saxton poked a cigar box with a burning glass fitted in one end of it out of a window of the United States Mint, which stood in Philadelphia on Chestnut Street at Juniper, and made a daguerreotype view of the site on which the Wanamaker Store now stands. It was the first photograph made in America.

Now, after three-quarters of a century, the
Wanamaker Store has the honor to present for
the first time anywhere a camera that an amateur
can carry around with him and make

Actual Color Photographs

as fast as he pleases and get as many pictures on
paper as he wants from each exposure.

The long vexing problem of practical color
photography has thus been solved by the Hess-
Ives camera and color method, with what is
called the "Hirco Camera."

This camera carries three plates in a special
holder. You "snap" it as you would any other
camera but make a longer exposure. The picture
is taken on all three plates with one exposure,
but each records a different primary color. One
impression (blue) is then made on a sensitized
paper, the two others (red and yellow) on ex-
tremely thin sheets of celluloid. The three are
then veneered so closely together that the print
becomes of one consistency and a real photo-
graph in natural colors.

Advance amateurs may make the color prints
themselves on the specially prepared material,
but as the process is new most people will bring
the plates to us for developing and printing.

This wonderful new camera costs
only $25, and it may be seen today and
all this week, together with the beautiful
pictures it makes, in a special exhibition
in the Book Store, 10th Street and 4th
Avenue corner of old building.

The camera at $25 has a fixed focus and takes
plates 3¼ x 4½. A cabinet size focusing camera
of the same nature is priced $75.

There have been cameras made before that
take color photographs, but they have been in the
form of glass transparencies and practically out
of the reach of the amateur. This is the first
practical camera to make color photographs that
can be shown on paper.

John Wanamaker

Broadway at Ninth Street, New York

PRESERVATION PHOTOCOPY: ORIGINAL MATERIAL RESTRICTED

CHICAGO

CHICAGO, IL
NOV 27
11-AM
1917

16
2

Alfred Striegelz Seg.
291 First Avenue
New York City
N.Y.

G. B. September 18th 1922.

Your letters --- two in one envelope and one in another, reached me the
other day, and I wanted to answer them promptly--- such fine letters
always call for immediate response --- but I was taking a young English
girl over to Doctor Foord's and was absent two days. This girl, Jean
Cameron, I had known at Andrew's some years ago,-- liked her, though she is
only 24 now, and looks upon me as Methuselah I daresay,--- so when she came
again to this country she came here for two or three days, and then Marion
and I took her across to Ulster Co., and deposited her at Kerhonkson for a
visit. I was very glad to see the Foord's again -- we remained for the night--
Mrs John Foord and I are really close friends, and I have always been extremely
fond of and admiring of Andrew himself. He looks dreadfully.

Will you forgive this typewriter, and try to feel that as much of me
is writing, as would be if I were sprawling over the page with my own childish
script! Please don't take this arm business so seriously -- it isn't so serious
as I evidently made out. I only was a bit irritated that it prevented my
painting as freely as I longed to, -- but on the other hand, limitations are as
freeing as anything. And just one more fence to climb over merely intensifies
the clarity of things that matter, and helps me to leave on the wrong side,
those which are cumbersome. The limiting of ones probable paths to happiness
but quickens the consciousness to a finer and more spiritual intensity, and
gives one a more passionate, purer reaction to values and relations.

Of course you wrote nothing which I would resent, or which would
embarrass me -- but the " chance " which you would have come to me, the
relationship and all its subsequent developments, marriage, a child, and
all that those two words _should_, and _do_ sometimes, include--- such things
cannot be forced. They must happen. And at the present time there's no
such possibility. I know, -as you know, that I have something to give
which will never be given excepting through love,-- something which painting,

2,

and writing can never express through me. And if it does never get said, or
if it never comes into existence in the way which is commonly
spoken of as the "normal" way,-- still I am quite sure that it will never
dry up and wither into nothingness. A human being may pass out of himself
and into his gift to life, if not through another being, then through the
gift itself,-- in which latter case the freedom may not come until the being
is able entirely, to free himself from himself. Is that what people
call death? I am not afraid.

How is your finger? Laziness is probably good for you but I am sorry
that the cause is a painful one.

I haven't been weighed lately, but I think I must have gained. Tell
Georgia to keep up the good work, and you too!

We have just got a copy of Vanity Fair, with Rosenfeld's article on
Georgia. Have not read it yet. Is she going to send any paintings to the
Salons of America?

I find typing does not bother my arm so much. Yes I have seen one or
two M.Ds. - one this summer and one four or five years ago. But physical
pain bothers me so much less than that of the mind or spirit, that I fancy
I have not worried as much about this old shoulder of mine as you think.
I will see about it more definitely when I return to N.Y. But I shall not
agree to surgery until everything else has been tried. At present I am
applying a thermolite, a large electric bulb and reflector, for intense
heat - and occasionally I get someone, Marion, to rub. Otherwise I'll let it
slide'.

You say "it all may lead to death - annihilation - but what of that".
What truly? Is our three-dimensional conception of life so perfect that
death, or annihilation may not perhaps be far more sublime? I agree with you.
And meanwhile, it is a tremendous opportunity before one, before each one
of us,-- to learn to live-- to learn and to keep learning to be.