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Transcribers

  1. 66810205 - nzanga
  2. 68427388 - Preacher357
  3. WINNER - 68592589 - JanetCormack
  4. 68597494 - jmfahne
  5. 68608174 - ALBECA
  6. 68653127 - RommelC

66810205 - nzanga

[21-10-51]
Blackheath
Sunday
Dearest Sylvia
Yesterday was not a day of rest for your lion after all. He went to the I.C.A. in the evening because Madeleine was basters for the 'social evening'. I am glad I went (apart from the dancing) because of the calypso singer Lord Beginnes was there. He really is amazingly good. He is the most famous of the W. Indian singers of calypsos. As you know, these are improvised and as Madeleine & I were in a conspicuous place we were introduced into a calypso about the choice of wines - he painted a picture of my introducing her to my family. (Hetty said she would love to see that! Would not Mother be surprised!)
Do you know I have not yet been paid for my lectures at the T.G. - let alone the Arts Council ones!
(I shall soon have to send the moths in my purse out to look for friends who live in richer purses. They should be confidence - Moths- winning from the other moths by the 3-wing trick as Spot The Butterfly.)
When I told Paul about your sale he complimented the buyer on his taste and perception. P is working on a very large picture ( a 5 x 4 feet - or somewhere about that). It is an oil. We discussed it. He is not satisfied with his technique: he is influenced by Tanguy. I then criticised Tanguy because he implicitly adopts conventional perspective & hence is reactionary. ( This is not a view I subscribe to particularly - but as you know that does not exercise me.) I left P., I'm afraid if his oil were not a mistake and that his free style in gouache were not more valid He thought he might not finish the oil. I then tried to upset my argument but without much success. The dangers of art-criticism! I hope he does finish it: provisional title ' Penelope in the Poet's Web'.
FROM A NEW POEM
The luminous ferns stray up the tree
of night whose fruit hang in the country
And in the mutinous waters: I wait
Among the roots that hold the bale.
Do fruit split if you wait till they fall.
Why wait until they are shapely but rotten inside.
I cannot reach the country from their roots.
Stars are apples for the distant ciders.

Dearest Sylvia. I love you, you do love me don't you. I love you so dearly,
Lawrence

68427388 - Preacher357

[21-10-51] Blackheath Sunday Dearest Sylvia
Yesterday was not a day of rest for your lion after all. He went to the I.C.A. in the evening
because Madeleine was masters for the 'social evening: I am glad I went (apart from the
dancing) because the Colypro singer Lord Beginner was there. He really is amazingly
good. He is the most famous of the W. Indian Singers of Colypros. As you know, these
men improvise and as Madeleine & I were in a conspicuous place we were introduced
into a Colypro abut the choice of wines - he painted a picture of my introducing her to
my family. (Hetty said she would love to see that! Would not mother be surprised!)

Do you know I have not yet been paid for my lecture at the T.G. - let alone the
Arts Council ones!

(I shall soon have to send the moths in my
purse out to look for friends who live
in richer purses. They shall be confi-
dence - Moths - winning from the ot-
her moths & the 3 - wing trick as Spot
The Butterfly).

When I told Paul about your sale he complimented the buyer on his taste & percep-
tion. I am working on a very large picture (ca 5 & 4 feet - or somewhere about that).
It is an oil. We discussed it. He is not satisfied with his technique: he is influenced by
Tanguy. I then criticised Tanguy because he implicits adapts conventional per-
spective & hence is reactionary. (This is not a view I subscribe to particulary
with as you know that does not exercise me). I left P., I'm afraid, wondering
if his oil were not a mistake and that his free style in gourds were not more
valid. He thought he might not finish the oil. I then tried to upset my argu-
ment but without much success. The dangers of art-criticism! I hope he
does finish it: provisional title 'Penelope - The Poet's Web?
FROM A NEW POEM
The luminous ferns stray up the tree
Of night where fruit hang in the country
And in the mutinous waters: I wait
Among the roots that hold the bale.
Do fruit split if you wait till they fall.
Why wait until they are shaply but rotten inside.
I cannot reach the country from there roots.
Stars are apples for the distant cider.

Dearest Sylvia - I love you, you do love me don't
you. I love you so dearly,
Lawrence

WINNER - 68592589 - JanetCormack

[21-10-51]
Blackheath
Sunday
Dearest Sylvia
Yesterday was not a day of rest for your lion after all. He went to I.C.A. in the evening because Madeleine was hostess for the 'social evening'. I am glad I went (apart from the dancing) because the Calypso singer Lord Beginner was there. he really is amazingly good. He is the most famous of the W. Indian singers of Calypsos. As you know, these men improvise and as Madeleine & I were in a conspicious place we were introduced into a calypso about the choice of wines - he painted a picture of my introducing her to my family. (Hetty said she would love to see that! Would not mother be surprised!)
Do you know I have not yet been paid for my lectures at the T.G. - let alone the Arts Council ones! (I shall soon have to send teh moths in my purse out to look for friends who live in richer purses. They shall be Confidence-Moths - winning from the other moths of the 3-wing trick on Spott the Butterfly.)
When I told Paul about your sale he complimented the buyer on his taste & perception. P is working on a very large picture (circa 5 by 4 feet - or somewhere about that). It is an oil. We discussed it. He is not satisfied with his technique: he is influenced by Tanguy. I then criticised Tanguy because he implicitly adops conventional perspective & hence is reactionary. (This is not a view I subscribe to particularly - but as you know that does not exercise me.) I left P,. I am afraid, wondering if his oil were not a mistake and that his free style in gouache were not more valid. He though he might not finiosh the oil. I then tried to upset my argument but without much success. The dangers of art criticism! I hope he does finish it: provisional title 'Penelope in the Poet's Web'.
FROM A NEW POEM
The luminous ferns stray up the tree
Of night whose fruit hang in the country
And in the mutinous waters: I wait
Among the roots that hold the bale.
Do fruit split if you wait till they fall.
Why wait until they are shapely but rotten inside.
I cannot reach the country from these roots.
Stars are apples for the distant cider.
Dearest Sylvia - I love you, you do love me don't you. I love you so dearly,
Lawrence

68597494 - jmfahne

[21-10-51]Blackheath Sunday Dearest Sylvia Yesterday was not a day of rest for your lion after all. He went to the I.C.A. in the evening because Madeleine was toasterfor the "social evening". I am glad I went (apart from the dancing ) because the Calypso singer Lord Beginner was there. He really is amazingly good. He is the most famous of all W. Indian singers of Calypsos. As you know, there were improvised and as Madeleine & I were in a conspicuous place we were introduced into a calypso about the choice of wines - he painted a picture of my introducing her to my family. (Hetty said she would love to see that! Would that rather be surprised!) Do you know I have not yet been paid for my lectures at the T.G. - let alone the Arts Council ones! (I shall soon have to send the moths in my purse out to look for friends who live in riches purses. They shall be Confidence - Moths - winning from the other moths & the 3- wing trick as Spot The Butterfly.) When I told Paul about your sale he complimented the buyer on his taste & percep-tion. P is working on a very large picture (ca 584 feet - or somewhere about that). IC is an aid. We discussed it. He is not satisfied with his technique: he is influenced by Tanguy. I am enticed Tanguy because he implicitly adopts conventional per-spective & hence is reactionary. (This is not a view I subscribe to particularly - but as you konw that does not exercise me.) I left P., I'm afraid, wondering if his oil were not a mistake and that his free style in gomorche were not more valid He relayed he might not finish the oil. I then tried to upset my argu-ment but without much success. The dangers of art-criticism! I hope he does finish it = memorial little "Penelope in the Poet's Web". FROM A NEW POEM The luminous ferns stray up the tree of night where fruit hang in the country and in the mutinous waters: I wail among the roots that hold the bale. Do fruit uplift if from want till they fall. Why wait until they are shapely but rotten inside. I cannot reach the country from these roots. Stars are apples for the distant ciders.
Dearest Sylvia. I love you, you do love me don't you. I love you so dearly, Lawrence

68608174 - ALBECA

[21-10-51]
Blockheath
Sunday
Dearest Sylvia
Yesterday was not a day of rest for your lion after all. He went to the I.C.A. in the evening because Madeleine was basters for the 'social evening'. I am glad I went (apart from the dancing) because the Calypso singer lord Beginner was there. He really is amazingly good. He is the most famous of the W. Indian singers of Calypsos. As you know, there men improvise and as Madeleine & I were in a conspicuous place we were introduced into a calypso about the choice of wines - he painted a picture of my introducing her to my family. (Heth said she would love to see this! Would max matle be surprised!) Do you know I have not yet been paid for my lecture at the T.G. - let alone the Arts Council ones!

(I shall soon have to send the moths in my purse out to look for friends who live in richer purses. They shall be confidence - Moths - winning from the other moths & the 3-wing bid or Spot The Butterfly.)

When I told Paul about your sale he complimented the buyer on his taste & perception. P is working on a very large picture (ca 5 & 4 feet- or somewhere about that). IC is an oil. We discussed it. He is not satisfied with his technique: he is influenced by Tanguy. The cultured Tanguy because he complicity adopts conventional perspective & hence is . (This is not a view I subscribe to particularly - but as you know that does not exercise me.) I left P., I'm afraid, wondering if his oil were not a mistake and that his free style in gouache were not more valid He he might not finish the oil. I then tried to upset my argument but without much success. The dangers of art-criticism! I hope he does finish it = provisional title 'Penelope- the Poet's Web'.
FROM A NEW POEM
The luminous ferns stray up the tree
of night where fruit hang in the country
Among the roots that hold the bole.
Do fruit split if you wait till they fall.
Why wait until they were shapely but rotten inside.
I cannot reach the country from there roots.
Stars are apples for the distant ciders.

68653127 - RommelC

Blackheath Sunday 21.10.51

Dearest Sylvia

Yesterday was not a day of rest for your lion after all. He went to the I.C.A. in the evening because Madeleine was for the 'social evening'. I am glad I went (apart from the dancing) because the Calypso singer Lord Beginner was there. He really is amazingly good. He is the most famous of the W. Indian singers of Calypsos. As you know, these men improvise and as Madeleine and I were in a conspicuous place we were introduced into a calypso about the choice of wives- he painted a picture of my introducing her to my family. (Hetty said she would love to see that! Would not Mother be surprised!) Do you know I have not yet been paid for my lectures at the T.G.- let alone the Arts Council ones!

(I shall soon have to send the moths in my purse out to look for friends who live in richer purses, They shall be Confidence-Moths- winning from the other moths by the 3-wing trick as "Spot The Butterfly".)

When I told Paul about your sale he complimented the buyer on his taste and perception. P is working on a very large picture (ca 5 & 4 feat- or somewhere about that). It is an oil. We discussed it. he is not satisfied with his technique: he is influenced by Targuy I then criticised Targuy because he is implicitly adapts conventional perspective and hence is reactionary. (This is not a view I subscribe to particularly- but as you know that does exercise me.) I left P., I'm afraid, wondering if his oil were not a mistake and that his free style in gauche were not morerabid. He thought he might not finish the oil. I then tried to upset my argument but without much success. The dangers of art-criticism! I hope he does finish it: "Penelope in the Poet's Web'.
FROM A NEW POEM:
The luminous ferns stray up the tree
of might where fruit hang in the country
And in the mutinous waters: I wait
Among the roots that hold the bale.
Do fruit split if you wait till they fall.
Why wait until they are shapely but inside.
I cannot reach the country from these roots.
Stars are apples for the distant cider.

Dearest Sylvia I love you, you do love me don't you. I love you so dearly,
Lawrence

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