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Correspondence from Aleister Crowley to Gerald Kelly
[Undated: circa October 1904]
My dear Gerald,
I hope you will allow me to congratulate you on having so far advanced in painting that even the jury shit can see something new (and therefore to be suppressed) in your work. You are better than I thought you were: I have been loathing you of late for your puerile delight in the measure of toleration contemptuously accorded you be the hoi polloi. You may now sit in the same box as I—it is the best for a true view of the stage.
For the rest, I hope you will not as reported make Cyprus your furthest point. It is too much like St Paul's 3rd journey. What you want is open sea or open sand—no damned objects to catch your eye. And 8 weeks is pure folly: 8 months is more to the point. I have been doing silence here—you have no idea till you do it how perfect a recreation it is to feel alone in the dark with not a thought astir.
I can already think—I shall be able to work soon. For you, go wherever you can sleep in the open air for weeks together, without even a tent. That is another great secret of moral = mental = physical health. There is always a great struggle to get such conditions—so I find but—"once in How the delighted Spirit pants for joy!"
Yours ever, more then ever.
Aleister.
I have given it up, and got a secretary to do my hard work. Sounds like biz, eh?
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