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gri_2003_m_46_b06_f08_032

Transcribers

  1. 72173310 - Preacher357
  2. 72244569 - jesseytucker
  3. 72413478 - altheist
  4. WINNER - 72419481 - Molly_Carr
  5. 72433014 - Blinker
  6. 72628048 - Merlotmateus

72173310 - Preacher357

[31-8-53] Sunday Blackheath My dearest Sylvia

I am afraid that I can't post this letter today as I have no
stamps. You will not receive this until Tuesday, I regret.
Still, I expect you are busy with your guests.

Thank you for the cuttings, all of which, I have read with var-
ious degrees of irritation and fury. The Confidental Clerk
sounds, as you all but said, crap: as for the art critic's
view of Elizabethan portraiture... How reliable can we assume
the political part of the paper to be, really, when the arts
side is never right? But, never.

Yesterday's Van Gogh lecture was like Saturday at the N.G.
Crowds. I think it went well. I argued that he painted as
he did against his illness, not because of it. His paintings,
like a psychotic's symptoms, are an effort to control his
disease. So it is false to say his art reflects his dis-
ease, passively.

Father came to the lecture and afterwards we went to LILI which
we both enjoyed very much. It is sentimental and sweet and
rather literary. But I found it worked in all the ways Hans
Christian Anderson failed to: an idea of innocence is estab-
lished by Leslie Caron.

Today I have not gone to Harpenden and Luton Hoo. Instead I
am doing some writing. It is nice to be working on something
instead of a lecture again. pasmore approved the synopsis
of he Arch. Rev. article and today I have written and typed a
thousand words of it: that is just about one/third.

Author Lion is sitting about in his
pyjamas. He has not dressed all day.
I have a new pair of shoes (my par-
ent's birthday present): brown cas-
uals. They look something like this -
(or, rather, one of them does).
(It misses my in-step).

I wish you were here. Apart from all the other reasons a nice
painting could be made of the seaffolding outside the windiow.
I got out on it the other day and adored seeing our room from
a few feet outside the windows. No interpretations - please!

I am going to Wimbledon to sleep on Monday night. Mother has
a pair of pants which she thinks may fit me and I can have them
if they do. They are new: somebody's who died.

I love you I love you
Lawrence

72244569 - jesseytucker

[31-8-53]
Blackheath
Sunday
My dearest Sylvia
I am afraid that I can't post this letter today as I have no
stamps. You will not receive this until Tuesday, I regret.
Still, I expect you are busy with your guests.
Thank you for the cuttings all of which I have read with var-
ious degrees of irritation and fury. The Confidential Clerk
sounds, as you all but said, crap: as for the art critic's
view of Elizaethan portraiture...How reliable can we assume
the political part of the paper to be, really, when the arts
side is never right? But, never.
Yesterday's Van Gogh lecture was like Saturday at the N.G.
Crowds. I think it went well. I argued that he painted as
he did against his illness, not because of it. His paintings,
like a psychotic's symptoms, are an effort to control his
disease. So it is false to say his art reflects his dis-
ease, passively.
Father came to the lecture and afterwards we went to LILI which
we both enjoyed very mch. It is sentimental and sweet and
rather literary. But I found it worked in all the ways Hans
Christian Anderson failed to: an idea of innocence is estab-
lished by Leslie Caron.
Today I have not gone to Harpenden and Luton Hoo. Instead I
am doing some writing. It is nice to be working on something
instead of a lecture again. Pasmore approved the synopsis
of the Arch. Rev. article and today I have written and typed a
thousand words of it: that is just about one/third.
Author Lion is sitting about in his
pyjamas. He has not dressed all day.
I have a new pair of shoes (my par-
ent's birthday present): brown cas-
uals. They look something like this--
(or, rather, one of them does).
I wish you were here. Apart from all the other reasons a nice
painting could be made of the scaffolding outside the window.
I got out on it the other day and adored seeing our room from
a few feet outside the windows. No interpretations--please!
I am going to Wimbledon to sleep on Monday night. Mother has
a pair of pants which she thinks may fit me and I can have them
if they do. They are new: somebody's who died.
I love you. I love you.
Lawrence

72413478 - altheist

[31-8-53]
Blackheath
Sunday

My dearest Sylvia

I am afraid that I can't post this letter today as I have no stamps. You will not receive this until Tuesday, I regret. Still, I expect you are busy with your guests.

Thank you for the cutting all of which I have read with various degrees of irritation and fury. The Confidential Clerk, as you all but said, crap: as for the art critic's view of Elizabethan portraiture... How reliable can we assume the political part of the paper to be, really, when the arts side is never right? But, never.

Yesterday's Van Gogh lecture was like Saturday at the N.G. Crowds. I think it went well. I argued that he painted as he did against his illness, not because of it. His paintings, like a psychotic's symptoms, are an effort to control his disease. So it is false to say his art reflect his disease, passively.

Father came to the lecture afterwards we went to LILI which we both enjoyed very much. It is sentimental and sweet and rather literary. But I found it worked in all the ways Hans Christian Anderson failed to: an idea of innocence is established by Leslie Caron.

Today I have not gone to Harpenden and Luton Hoo. Instead I am doing some writing. It is nice to be working on something instead of a lecture again. Pasmore approved the synopsis of the Arch. Rev. article and today I have written and typed a thousand words of it: that is just about one/third.

Author Lion is sitting about his day pyjamas. He has not dressed all day. I have a new pair of shoes (my parent's birthday present): brown casuals. They look something like this (or, rather, one of them does).

I wish you were here. Apart from all the other reasons a nice painting could be made of that scaffolding outside the window. I got out on it the other day and adored seeing our room from a few feet outside the windows. No interpretations - please:

I am going to Wimbledon to sleep on Monday night. Mother has a pair of pant which she thinks may fit me and I can have them if they do. They are new: somebody's who died.

I love you I love you
Lawrence

WINNER - 72419481 - Molly_Carr

Blackheath 31-8-53
Sunday
My dearest Sylvia
I am afraid that I can't post this letter today as I have no stamps. You will not receive this until tuesday, I regret. Still, I expect you are busy with your guests.
Thank you for the cuttings all of which I have read with various degrees of irritation and fury. The Confidental Clerk sounds, as you all but said, crap: as for the art critic's view of Elizabethan portraiture... How reliable can we assume the political part of the paper to e, really, when the arts side is never right? But, never.
Yesterday's Van Gogh lecture was like Saturday at the N.G. Crowds. I think it went well. I argued that he painted as he did against his illness, not because of it. His paintings, like a psychotic's symptoms, are an effort to control his disease. So it is false to say his art reflects his disease, passively.
Father came to the lecture and afterwards we went to LILI which we both enjoyed very much. It is sentimental and sweet and rather literary. But I found it worked in all the ways Hans Christian Andersen failed to: an idea of innocence is established by Leslie Caron.
Today I have not gone to Harpenden and Luton Hoo. Instead I am doing some writing. It is nce to be working on something instead of a lecture again. Pasmore approved the synopsis of the Arch. Rev. article and today I have written and typed a thousand words of it: that is just about one/third.
Author Lion is sitting about in his pyjamas. He has not dressed all day. I have a new pair of shoes (my parent's birthday present): brown casuals. They look something like this - (or, rather, one of them does).
(It misses my in-step.)
I wish you were here. Apart from all the other reasons a nice painting could be made of the scaffolding outside the window. I got out on it the other day an adored seeing our room from a few feet outside the windows. No interpretations - please!
I am going to Wimbledon to sleep on Monday night. Mother has a pair of pants which she thinks may fit me and I can have them if they do. They are new: somebody's who died.
I love you I love you
Lawrence

72433014 - Blinker

Blackheath
Sunday

My dearest Sylvia

I am afraid that I can't post this letter today as I have no stamps. You will not receive this until Tuesday, I regret. Still, I expect you are busy with your guests.

Thank you for the cuttings all of which I have read with various degrees of irritation and fury. The Confidential Clerk sounds, as you all but said, crap: as for the art critic's view of Elizabethan portraiture... How reliable can we assume the political part of the paper to be, really, when the arts side is never right? But, never.

Yesterday's Van Gogh lecture was like Saturday at the N.G. Crowds. I think it went well. I argued that he painted as he did against his illness, not because of it. His paintings, like psychotic's symptoms, are an effort to control his disease. So it is false to say his art reflects his disease, passively.

Father came to the lecture and afterwards we went to LILI which I enjoyed very much. It is sentimental and sweet and rather literary. But I found it worked in all the ways Hans Christian Andersen failed to: an idea of innocence is established by Leslie Caren.

Today I have not gone to Harpenden and Luten Hoo. Instead I am doing some writing. It is nice to be working on something instead of a lecture again. Pasmore approved the synopsis of the Arch. Rev. article and today I have written and typed a thousand words of it: that is just about one/third.

Author Lion is sitting about in his pijamas. He has not dressed all day. I have a new pair of shoes (my parent's birthday present): brown casuals. They look something like this - (or, rather, one of them does).

(it misses my in-step)

I wish you were here. Apart from all the other reasons a nice painting could be made of the scaffolding outside the window. I got out on it the other day and adored seeing our room from a few feet outside the windows. No interpretations - please!

I am going to Wimbledon to sleep on Monday night. Mother has a pair of pants which she thinks may fit me and I can have them if they do. They are new: somebody's who died.

I love you
love you Lawrence

72628048 - Merlotmateus

31 - 8 53

Blackheath
Sunday

My dearest Sylvia

I am afraid that I can't post this letter today as I have no stamps. You will not receive this until tuesday, I regret. Still, I expect you are busy with your guests.

Thank you for the cuttings all of which I have read with varying degrees of irritation and fury. The Confidential Clerk sounds, as you all but said, crap: as for the art critic's view of Elizabethan portraiture...How reliable can be assume the political part of the paper to be, really, when the arts side is never right? But, never.

Yesterday's Van Gogh lecture was like Saturday at the N.G. Crowds. I think it went well. I argues that he painted as he did against his illness, not because of it. His paintings like a psychotic's symptoms, are an effort to control his disease. So it is false to say his art reflects his disease, passively.

Father came to the lecture and afterwards we went to LILI which we both enjoyed very much. It is sentimental and sweet and rather literary. But I found it worked in all the ways Hans Christian Anderson failed to: an idea of innocence is established by Leslie Caron.

Today I have not got to Harpenden and Luton Hoo. Instead I am doing some writing. It is nice to be working on something instead of a lecture again. Pasmore approved the synopsis of the Arch. Rev. article and today I have written and typed a thousand words of it: that is just about one/third.

Author Lion is sitting about in his pyjamas. He has not dressed all day. I have a new pair of shoes (my parent's birthday present): brown casuals. They look something like this -
(picture)
(or, rather one of them does).

I wish you were here. Apart from all the other reasons a nice painting could be made of the scaffolding outside the window. I got out on it the other day and adored seeing our room from a few feet outside the windows. No interpretations - please!

I am going to Wimbledon to sleep on Monday night. Mother has a pair of pants which she thinks may fit me and I can have them if they do. They are new: somebody's who dies.

I love you I love you
Lawrence

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