to do often becomes too literary – perhaps I should have been

a writer, but for that I lacked an ear for language

and sufficient culture. The problem with me as with others

is that one does not rely blindly on one’s instinct,

for even when one now and again adopts a devil-may-care attitude

and really throws all caution to the wind, – the result will

be excessively marked by a conflicting compulsion, that

is what controls us, not instinct. But it would

be amusing to do, what we once spoke of, –

that is, to travel to the South Sea islands or some other

uncultivated place and live tranquilly in order to follow

our instincts, without having to make use of the compul-

sive conflicting system in order to liberate oneself – because then

one in fact only sits there focusing on everything that one

thinks is bad in art, – even if one has

an image of it as the opposite of what one wishes.

To imagine the thing as contrast is almost as

bad as to imagine the thing as an ideal.

Excessive antipathy is just as constraining

as excessive sympathy. Well forgive me all this

gibberish dear friend. Please be so kind as to write

a few words to me when time and opportunity permit. Greetings to your wife

and the others from Your Astrup. My wife asks me to say hello to yours

thanking [her] for the greeting. D.S.

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