Viewing page 22 of 45

This transcription has been completed. Contact us with corrections.

To Staten Island by ferry - cold, windy, white world.

debates when I was in the grip of marine romanticism 3 yrs. ago in Kauai.

Then to the Mod. Art Museum for Dali & Miro.  Enuf sed.
Dali [[strikethrough]] fasci [[[/strikethrough]] communicates, Miro fascinates.

Mobiles, & Van Gogh's Starry Nite again, & Rousseau's Sleeping Gypsy.

11/30. Yesterday - a ride to the Hudson Palisades with Myrtle, Kimi, Pierre.  A long walk in late autumn.  Mist in the woods, & dark bare trees, and magical yellow grasses, as fine as anything I have ever seen. Cold air & leaves crunchy underfoot.  - And  I am about finished with my latest oil based on a sketch of Hamoa.

12/4 re Hamoa - I find myself a bit too critical for my own good in painting. I do not

[[end page]]
[[start page]

seem to be able to express myself freely, without restraint, without fear.

12/4. To the Bowery where I walked alone under the El.  The men: the most unfortunate, the oppressed, the ones blighted by our economic society.

Then tonight: I wept as I read Hart Crane's "And yet this great wink of eternity"- "salute the crocus lustre of the stars-"

-Columbia U. Library. It was in a book by Drew: Directions in Modern Poetry (?)- [[strikethrough]] It [[/strikethrough]] I [[strikethrough]] felt [[/strikethrough]] thought, what the hell have I accomplished these 2 months in N.Y.  This [[strikethrough]] [[?Host]] form [[/strikethrough]] voyages sense of grandeur in this world is the greatest thing I have felt - but what have I done with it?  Be done with fears: work, work, work!