Aldwinckle, Eric, Letter, 7 August 1943

00001574-4.jpg
Description: 
Letter to Harry Somers

Tabs

Case Study: 
Creative Dialogue Across the Ocean: Eric Aldwinckle’s Letters to Harry Somers
Creator: 
Aldwinckle, Eric
Source: 
letter
Date: 
7 August 1943
Place: RCAF Headquarters, London
Collection/Fonds: 
Contributer: 
McMaster University Libraries
Rights: 
Copyright, public domain: McMaster University owns the rights to the archival copy of the digital image in TIFF format. Reproduced with the kind permission of Margaret Bridgman.

Identifier: 
00001574-4
Language: 
eng
Type: 
image
Format: 
jpg
Transcript: 

"But if you have these for sale I would still like to buy that" said I holding up a red one, and I looked behind and was astonished to find a queue of fifty behind me. The coster was furious and anxious to be rid of me but the devil was in me and I wouldn't go because I am tired of accepting things which give me the gripes after I am offered things which nourish.
So coster, chuntering, chucked a few red apples about and scales and weights and the sale was made. He was happy because he knew he had got the better of me after all, for he deftly changed the weights so that I received only half a pound and paid for one. And I was happy because we were both victors -- He in his cheating and I in my insistence for red apples. If I'm going to be cheated anyway, I may as well be cheated for what I want, or the best.
Saturday afternoon I decide I shall be devoted entirely to piano and after long absence and much hunting, I find a piano studio which I rent for four hours at 2/6 an hour. I enjoy myself moderately but nothing very good comes out. I feel my music receding from me -- it is so long since I was able to concentrate on it -- But when I go to Wigmore I find my appreciation and understanding is even richer -- so I leave it to the masters.
A deep calm is settling on me of late -- Possibly because I have been communing with Plato, Aristotle, Buddha, Jesus, Krishnamurti, and I begin to see the "nature of things" more firmly than before.
I wonder.
I wonder too why I write to you.
I wonder why you write to me.
I wonder why I write things like this.
"Where is he who dare define
The Water from a mountain Spring
Divine
The Purest Thing
in waters.
He who must, Compare,
elsewhere
The waters of diversions
and pollutions