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nature outside of abstract art. Think of the rightness of horizontals and verticals, of balances of volumes of sky, water and hills that day on Tomales Bay. Mondrian realized that abstraction could accomplish that if pursued with enough purity of spirit and that came to replace for him the idea of [[strikethrough]][[/strikethrough]] abstraction as the retention of essences. It really was a matter of doing only what God could do, perfect equilibrium. That's why I think of the work after 1970 in terms of Mondrian -- because the idea of abstraction in them is more like Mondrian's later work than anything you'd done before, and that was why I found your letter about the struggle with Bogoria so interesting -- it was cast in those terms -- [[strikethrough]] "pose [[/strikethrough]] "poise" was a word you used, and exactly the word Mondrian would have approved when he too narrowed a black line just so much and no more. The kind of poise that only nature and abstraction can give.

And, like you, after 1920 he had to adopt a kind of fanatical attitude about nature: hated green, wouldn't look at trees, etc. Kept a single artificial flower in his studio which came with a green artificial leaf, which he painted white. Can you beat that? God, Mondrian!

Anyway, I think it's [[strikethrough]] because of [[/strikethrough]] their deepened abstraction -- of Mondrian's second kind -- that you were so stunned by when you saw Olyka II and Pilica III in your studio next to Dove of Tanna and Mysterious Bird. The "weightiness" you described -- what is that except exactly what makes you reel before a perfect Mondrian? Tomales Bay, made by a person, 8 feet by 9 feet. It's a miracle, every time.

Incidentally, that [[strikethrough]] period of [[/strikethrough]] first period, roughly 114-21 corresponds exactly to the period in which Joyce was writing Ulysses. It's interesting, because Joyce idea of art then was not far from Mondrian's. His watchwords came from Acquinas -- integritas, consonatia, claritas, which he translated as wholeness, harmony and radiance, which are pretty much the words I'd use for Tomales Bay that day and for Composition with Blue, Red and Yellow, 1929.

Goy! You don't say "Happy Yom Kippur." It wd be like saying "Happy Crucifixion." You say Happy New Year, roughly acknowledging the season, which begins w/ Rosh Hashonna (Happy 5738) and ends w/ Yom Kippur. My father once blasted through the batroom [[bathroom]] door when I was kid, because he heard me brushing my teeth one Yom Kippur morning. He grabbed me and belted me [[strikethrough]] acros [[/strikethrough]] across the house. "Water in your mouth! Don't you know the trees are trembling outside?" The only poetic words I ever heard from him, and I caught him catching a smoke later in the day, nevertheless. That's why we're such a miserable people -- we never can live up to it.

I've got a rest period coming up this week: no more shots or pills till 10/4. Hope to get a lot done, and Ed will show up this Thurs, which works out just right. You know, we'd have been better off flying Tanya out.

P/