Here today. Paintings turned me on or was it just that spiral stairway? Flight – flights on star jet: landscape under wing. White cloud cities. Chicago traffic criss-cross of illuminated beetles. Ah! Kennedy Airport a game of musical chairs. F & J nowhere to be seen. Frantic messages over air from bus terminal. Eventually all met up in Slugs: J quiet; F non-stop talking. Beautiful studio on Lower East Side within walking distance of Slugs!! Trying to borrow typewriter from Scribners – hope to do some work! J[oel] Oppenheimer wants to meet the Quin (?!). How is the village/community/work going there? All quite nowI hope. Love to everyone. Will write longer soon. You do too. Please. Thots & much love A
Ann Quin (March 17, 1946-1973) travelled widely, and frequently stayed in Placitas where Robert Creeley introduced her to me. Her books are exploratory and important in 20th Century fiction. Berg, Three, Tripticks, Passages . . .
This is one of many PC’s from Ann that are part of the large number of letters between her and me from 1965 to 1973 when, unfortunately, she went into the sea and drowned. She could not write if she took her medicine, but when she got off her meds was depressed to the point of being suicidal, and that’s what happened. The loss of a great writer. For me the loss of a wonderful and dear friend. I’ve assembled a bit of information about her here: Ann Quin.