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feeling dumb & inadequate even though I was supposedly being defended & elevated.

You make me feel loved for what I do & for what I did, or, at least tried and in your essay abstraction gets the same treatment. Art ends up in your hands as a simple, loveable, positive force even with its difficulties. I like this a lot better than its view as an hysterical necessity that is not as dumb as it seems. But I must confess that I've lived it pretty much that way, & wonder if this is what made Michael & me so close early on, and I can't help wondering if this attitude hasn't kept me good & depressed.

I hope you're right about everything, I just wish it wasn't so hard - for you to figure out what its all about, and for me to make something I'm supposed to make because I was born in 1936.
Love to everyone,
F.

P.S. I hope I mail these letters & that you don't hate me because they are non sensical & hysterical - the opposite of everything you've done & written for me.

P.S.S. The tone of the essay is perfect and beautiful beyond belief. The content speaks for itself. When its published the Richter Scale will hit 9.78. They better start shoring up the Kremlim. 

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