Aug 7 1943
I haven't written to you for a long time because I haven't felt like it until your 'natural' letter from Bigwin which I was pleased to have, and please don't ever apologise for your letters or lack of necessary inspiration to write, because I love to hear from you when you enjoy writing and when you don't. I shouldn't mind if you never wrote.
Yes I know you were at Bigwin but when I was told of job (you and Charlie) I thought it meant a two piano job.!! You must have missed your music, but, it is over now I suppose and you are back in Toronto working happily away as the industrious bee.
I have stayed at Bigwin and I 'understand' too well, and found it a disgusting 'transformation' or rather 'adaptation' of northern 'life'. The acme of the synthetic. But most of them are old and are happy there. They certainly would literally die on one of my trips in the north. Ah, occasionally I dwell with pleasure upon sweet silent northern water, the clarity, the taste, the sensation of it mixed with odour of pine and friendly unsuspicious rocks, where I can commune with nature and hear its music -- When I do, I condemn myself for my sensuousness and proceed about my business with the desirelessness of an angel, yet looking like the devil.
Your offer and acceptance, your fulfillment and reaction to the R.C.A.F. job at Picton was adequately described, most sympathetically understood and will explain more than anything I could describe my own efforts in the same direction here, and 'reaction'.
I have been working in the 'studio' since I wrote last and so have no exciting experiences to suppress for the benefit of the censors but have just been painting and painting. These are taken from me like eggs from a hen (you know, those oval things) [arrow pointing down] THIS WAY PLEASE [indicating a page-turn]
Aldwinckle, Eric, Letter, 7 August 1943