Dear Rags, I wrote to you so many times today. Short spurts, long banging paragraphs on my typewriter, color color color, drawing vines and vans. Thanks for inspiring me. When I look at the photo you sent to me in your last letter, the one of you in your whites and chef hat--busy plating away with such meticulousness--god I feel inspired.
For the first time in what seems like a cool million years, I drew out a concept that had been sloshing around in thought in a letter to you. You shall receive it shortly, I am glad it is going to you. Whatever this thing will become, it has finally begun.
Love you hard tonight, M Doc.