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I did try to return to portrait but after a few sensitive pastels - I have only one desire to pound a surface to pieces. What this is I don’t know. Perhaps I want paint and paper to sound who knows! [...] a new young thing I am with an old face. [...] I must paint again I feel but what except this damned textural urge - nothing to say really! (April 9, Seattle 1952)
I presume you have seen the Rembrandt show - alas I miss so much, so much and particularly my beloved Rembrandt - a record of Mozart thrills me and when I hear Schuberts Quintet - two cellos I bless his life but a reproduction of Rembrandt is a pain in the neck - I want to be close - close to the paints as in the Louvre - close to his hand really - near his shoulder like his son - close to his soul altho I know that he is great enough to be everywhere - anywhere almost. (November 28, Seattle 1952)
Of course there is always the excuse - that we are so young - but is there an excuse then for our decadence and materialism. I would insult the word decadence because it can not be when something great is relaxing leaving great monuments to form reality I thought. Materialism has spread its hasty sheets on us and we are content it seems - just another gadget! For delight. (September, Paris 1954)
I have been to see the 7th to 12th centuries illuminated manuscripts in their Bibliotheque Nationale and it was good to see an art all on one theme. I have been to Chartres twice and reveled into the windows and magnificent structure. - The color of the glass on the beautiful greywalls and huge pillars is some I shall try to do. I believe my next painting bout will be based on color! [...] Every moment of living seems mysterious and and and! (October 5, Paris 1954)
The days are dark - no sun - little rain - no sun - the museums are mostly unlit by electricity so one goes there no more. I can’t go into modern exhibitions there is so little reward. Everything has become a „thing“ and the possessions are without value - without concept - and while techniques whirl and twist to fascinate us - there is no voice hidden there that I can listen to and feeling - grace and the humanities have, it seems to me, been exiled. (December 20, Paris 1954)
The snow flurries are beginning. I have many new ideas for lights. I will paint only lights at night. (August 10, Seattle 1955) |
