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1930? over

Dear John and Charles, There is a tickllish point that I am trying to get at. I have a notion you may arrive at it in various ways, you try this and try that.

What happens to you in the world of painting happens in prose too.
You say "everything is in color, in keeping all loose, let form grow out of color."

We say, "everything is in feeling. Let yourself feel dance? and dance? into lives."

 It is all right but there is a kind of insanity in it too.  You can't let yourself be quite loose. 
 As a prose writer and that is to say, "as a man who pretends to depict human life", I have you as far

I suppose as a man can go on the road of feeling. I have wrecked myself time and again. It is all involved in sex. I think my generation went