gri_2003_m_46_b01_f07_003
- Max. dissimilarity: 0.048
- Mean dissimilarity: 0.038
- Image votes: 0.0
Transcribers
- 65310574 - not-logged-in-f96455d1e00a409e3fc6
- 65315614 - not-logged-in-764611f648145d6df370
- 65319191 - mccosgrove
- 65329602 - not-logged-in-259a8879be5a42629e70
- WINNER - 65340945 - amcorbin
65310574 - not-logged-in-f96455d1e00a409e3fc6
Today is August Bank Holiday. It feels like Sunday. Father is castrating things in the garden. I sit naked by my open window to write this. No apples on our trees this year but I hardly miss them since the roses are still here. this afternoon Claire, the French student I told you of in another letter, is coming. She hopes to live in England for two months on lb15: she is living at the McHale's place free. So perhaps she can manage it. As she intends to study English poetry etc I shall lend her what books she wants. She tells me Albert has not painted much: I am sorry to hear that.I have decided more or less exactly what to talk about at the N.G. Metsu and Vermeer first. Hogarth's Graham Children followed by Chardin, Gainsborough, and Reynolds children; The Age Of Innocence, 18th century sensibility and so on. Landscapes: Claude, Dughet, Francisque Millet.
Molly has put on a stone during her holiday. Certainly she needed it. I fear the reverse obtains with you: after all you are leading the most active life from what you say in Italy. I do hope you are not too tired. You have not mentioned Michael: please tell me how you and he are getting on.
By the way what impressed you especially at the Jeu de Paume. Are you inclined to revalue Monet for example? Especially the big Femme Au Jardin.
You say that you feel I am not so far away. That is how I feel: we are so used to being apart that really accidents of distance do not make much difference. So that though I write in the poems about us being apart it is not particularly the experience of the moment that I draw on - it is just that the imagery offers itself. Miss you i do, of course, but not so much more than always.
About the poems: 3 is a re-written version of one I sent you the other day. 1 and 2 you already have, I think.
I have to close now because Mother warns me lunch is fifteen minutes off and I have to wash and dress. Thanks again for your letter which was a treasure chest of joys for me. I am so pleased you are seeing so much. And I am glad you like Florence so well: I have always thought it must be superb. Sicna in another way must be delighting you as I write (1 o'clock Monday).
I love you
Lawrence
65315614 - not-logged-in-764611f648145d6df370
Today is August Bank Holiday. It feels like Sunday. Father is castrating things in the garden. I sit naked by my open window to write this. No apples on our trees this year but I hardly miss them since the roses are still here. This afternoon Claire, the French student I told you of in another letter, is coming. She hopes to live in England for two months on *15: she is living at the McHale's place free. So perhaps she can manage it. As she intends to study English poetry &c. I shall lend her what books she wants. She tells me Albert has not painted much: I am sorry to hear that.I have decided more or less exactly what to talk about at the N.G. Metsu and Vermeer, first. Hogath's Graham Children followed by Chardin, Gainaborough, and Reynolds children; The Age of Innocence, 18th century sensibility, and so on. Landscapes: Claude, Dughet, Francisque Millet.
Molly has put on a stone during her holiday. Certainly she needed it. I fear the revers obtains with you: after all you are leading the most active life from what you say in Italy. I do hope you are not too tired. You have not mentioned Michael: please tell me how you ad he are getting on.
By the way what impressed you especially at the Jeu de Paume. Are you inclined to revalue Monet for example? Especially the big Femmes Au Jardin.
You say that you feel I am not so far away. That is how I feel: we are so used to being apart that really accidents of distance do not make much difference. So that though I write in the poems about us being apart it is not particularly the experience of the moment that I draw on - it is just that the imagery offers itself. Miss you I do, of course, but not so much more than always.
About the poems: 3 is a re-written version of one I sent you the other day. 1 and 2 you already have, I think.
I have to clse now because mother warns me lunch is fifteen minutes off and I have to wash and dress. Thanks again for your letter which was a treasure chest of joys for me. I am so pleased you are seeing so much. And I am glad you like Florence so well: I have always thought it must be superb. Siena in another way must be delighting you as I write (1 o'clock Monday).
I love you
Lawrence
65319191 - mccosgrove
Today is August Bank Holiday. It feels like Sunday. Father is castrating things in the garden. I sit naked by my open window to write this. No apples on our trees this year but I hardly miss them since the roses are still here. This afternoon Clair, the French student I told you of in another letter, is coming. She hopes to live in England for two months on 15: She is living at the McHale's place free. So perhaps she can manage it. As she intends to study English poetry &c. I shall lend her what books she wants. She tells me Albert has not painted much: I am sorry to hear that.I have decided more or less exactly what to talk about at the N.G. Metsu and Vermeer first. Hogarth's Gragham Children followed by Chardin, Gainsborough, and Reynolds children; The Age of Innocence, 18th centruy sensibility, and so on. landscapes: Claude, Dughet, Franciseque Millet.
Molly has put on a stone during her holiday. Certainly she needed it. I fear the reverse obtains with you: after all you are leading the most active life from what you say in Italy. I do hope you are not too tired. You have not mentioned Michael: please tell me how you and he are getting on.
By the way what impressed you especially at the Jeu de Paume. Are you inclined to revalue Monet for example? Especially the big Femmes Au Jardin.
You say that you feel I am not so far away. That is how I feel: we are so used to being apart that really accidents of distance do not make much difference. So that though I write in the poems about us being apart it is not particularly the experience of the moment that I draw on - it is just the imagery offers itself. Miss you I do, of course, but not so much more than always.
About the poems: 3 is re-written version of one I sent you the other day. 1 and 2 you already have, I think.
I have to close now because Mother warns me lunch is fifteen minutes off and I have to wash and dress. Thanks again for your letter which was a treasure chest of joys for me. I am so pleased you are seeing so much. And I am glad you like Florence so well. I have always thought it must be superb. Siena in another way must be delightin you as I write (1 o'clock Monday).
I love you.
Lawrence
65329602 - not-logged-in-259a8879be5a42629e70
Today is August Bank Holiday. It feels like Sunday.Father is castrating things in the garden. I sit naked
by my open window to write this. No apples on our trees
this year but I hardly miss them since the roses are still
here. This afternoon Claire, the French student I told
you of in another letter, is coming. She hopes to live
in England for two months on 15: she is living at the
McHale's place free. So perhaps she can manage it. As
she intends to study English poetry &c. I shall lend her
what books she wants. She tells me Albert has not paint-
ed much: I am sorry to hear that.
I have decided more or less exactly what to talk about
at the N.G. Metsu and Vermeer, first. Hogarth's Graham
Children followed by Chardin, Gainsborough, and Reynolds
children; The Age of Innocence, 18th century sensibiliyt,
and so on. Landscapes: Claude, Dughet, Francisque Millet.
Molly has put on a stone during her holiday. Certainly
she needed it. I fear the reverse obtains with you: af-
ter all you are leading the most active life from what you
say in Italy. I do hope you are not too tired. You have
not mentioned Michael: please tell me how you and he are
getting on.
By the way what impressed you especially at the Jeu de
Paume. Are you inclined to revalue Monet for example?
Especially the big Femmes Au Jardin.
You say that you feel I am not so far away. That is
how I feel: we are so used to being apart that really
accidents of distance do not make much difference. So
that though I write in the poems about us being apart
it is not particularly the experience of the moment that
I draw on - it is just that the imagery offers itself.
Miss you I do, of course, but not so much more than always.
About the poems: 3 is a re-written version of one I
send you the other day. 1 and 2 you already have, I
think.
I have to close now because Mother warns me lunch is
fifteen minutes off and I have to wash and dress. Thanks
again for your letter which was a treasure chest of joys
for me. I am so pleased you are seeing so much. And I
am glad you like Florence so well: I have always thought
it must be superb. Siena in another way must be delight-
ing you as I write (1 o'clock on Monday).
I love you
Laurence
WINNER - 65340945 - amcorbin
Today is August Bank Holiday. It feels like Sunday.Father is castrating things in the garden. I sit naked
by my open window to write this. No apples on our trees
this year but I hardly miss them since the roses are still
here. This afternoon Claire, the French student I told
you of in another letter, is coming. She hopes to live
in England for two months on 15: she is living at the
McHale's place free. So perhaps she can manage it. As
she intends to study English poetry &c. I shall lend her
what books she wants. She tells me Albert has not paint-
ed much: I am sorry to hear that.
I have decided more or less exactly what to talk about
at the N.G. Metsu and Vermeer, first. Hogarth's Graham
Children followed by Chardin, Gainsborough, and Reynolds
children; The Age Of Innocence, 18th century sensibility,
and so on. landscapes: Claude, Dughet, Francisque Millet.
Molly has put on a stone during her holiday. Certainly
she needed it. I fear the reverse obtains with you: af-
ter all you are leading the most active life from what you
say in Italy. I do hope you are not too tired. You have
not mentioned Michael: please tell me how you and he are
getting on.
By the way what impressed you especially at the Jeu de
Paume. Are you inclined to revalue Monet for example?
Especially the big Femmes Au Jardin.
You say that you fee I am not so far away. That is
how I feel: we are so used to being apart that really
acidents of distance do not make much difference. So
that though I write in the poems about us being apart
it is not particularly the experience of the moment that
I draw on -- it is just that the imagery offers itself.
Miss you I do, of course, but not so much more than always.
About the poems: 3 is a re-written version of one I
sent you the other day. 1 and 2 you already have, I
think.
I have to close now because Mother warns me lunch is
fifteen minutes off and I have to wash and dress. Thanks
again for your letter which was a treasure chest of joys
for me. I am so pleased you are seeing so much. And I
am glad you like Florence so well: I have always thought
it must be superb. Siena in another way must be delight-
ing you as I write (1 o'clock Monday).
I love you
Lawrence