|
Correspondence from Frieda Harris to Aleister Crowley
[Undated: circa Autumn 1939]
Dear Aleister,
I do hope it is going to come out, I am simply sweating. That Fool won't stand still and I do hope it is going to be alright and you'll be satisfied. I can't do it well enough—every sort of obstacles, damp weather, intense cold, an impossible situation of living in a caravan in mid-winter. I am more than duty but I dare not leave as I must do this as well as I can without interruption and I can hear the rumblings of a tumultuous world through the apple trees. If only it is alright. It has got all the symbols only I've never seen any traditional card like it and it has gone so far from the little bearded man which it never was for it appears to me as Christ and Buddha and Harpo and Pierot and Harlequin and the giant Pandah and every other foolish and adorable person and or course I can't make a pastiche of all those tho I try and indeed now I have forgotten how to spell.
Why haven't I got living fire which could weave musically these beauties. I can't do it with pigment I want poetry and music and light, not coloured chalks.
I do hope you're serious about this. You must be, you couldn't have written Tao Teh King with yr. tongue in yr. cheek even with your beastly cleverness and adroit subtlety.
Yours sincerely,
Frieda Harris
|