Letter 49 – B is also for Burlesque, Belly Dancing, Bend It like Beckham, The Benson Hotel, and Two Bad Girls
I’m writing this letter on 7/20/2012 at 12:01 p.m.
Art work by Mia Malone – Jennings (Miamalonejennings.com)
“The One thing we can never get enough of is love. And the one thing we never give enough of is love.” –Henry Miller, Insomnia, Or The Devil at Large
I am typing this letter to you, sitting upon my soft, brush suede brown, living room sofa, alone, at my artist loft. I have just returned from physical therapy. There is a small, beautiful, blue knitted blanket, which use to belong to Mr. B’s mother, casually folded and placed next to me, just in case my feet get cold. It’s placed where Mr. B use to sit as we engaged in conversation, cuddled, or ate dinner together. Because it belonged to Mr. B’s mother, it reminds me of my past lover. I still miss him, but, have acquiesced myself to Mr. B’s decision to cease our relationship. My sofa is very cozy and plush, despite its flaws of having an artist for an owner. There are several speckles of vivid paint, in a wide range of sizes and a mixture of two colors, bluish – green and light purple. The accidental splash of paint stains significantly lowers the décor of my cosmopolitan, upscale, artist loft, which is in the Twin Cities. Large drops of hard and heavy rain sound like native, rhythmic drums as they harmonically collide and melodiously pound upon the large pane of glass, which is my tall and wide, glass patio door, which leads outdoors, to a very large balcony area.
“In Hermann Hesse’s famous book Siddhartha, he has his hero say – “I can think, I can wait, and I can do without.” To me these qualities make a man invincible. Especially, “to wait and to do without.” America knows neither the one nor the other. Perhaps that is why at the early age of 200 years she shows signs of falling apart.” –Henry Miller, Sextet
The day feels calm and sleepy to me. I love that I am on the sixth floor, which is the top level of the complex I sometimes reside in, except when there is a leak in the ceiling. I rent one of the penthouse suites and it is beautiful. Generally, on sunny, lively afternoons, my view is full of the activity of human life in the city, several stories below me. I can hear the sweaty, dirty, construction crew, creating the unique sounds of a metropolitan symphony, with their high powered machinery and their loud, clanging tools. Every single sound falls universally into place, playing a citified din to my ears. It speaks a unique language which somehow calms and comforts me. It gives me the same kind of solace which I feel when I am in NYC, only on a much smaller level. I also think that it is also highly stimulating and awe inspiring, observing a variety of hard working men and women, busy, building the light rail on University Avenue. Continue reading
Letter 46 – Small, Unplanned Set Backs, Passion, Surrender, Sex, and Missing You, Henry Miller
I’m writing this letter on 6-5-2012 at 1:13 p.m
“Why not accept the challenge of the Spirit and yield? Why not surrender, and thus enter into a new life?” –Henry Miller, The Time of the Assassins
“Good luck! Keep writing and painting – the only salvation in this cheesy world.” –Henry Miller, Letter to Irving Stettner, Stroker Magazine, Thurs. 4/5/1978, From your Capricorn Friend
I have missed writing to you so much! I haven’t been able to write due to working night and day, around the clock, to meet a couple of previous art deadlines. My art show in Maple Grove, Minnesota was a success. For the past several weeks, I’ve been continuing to experience severe headaches, resulting from three bulging discs in my neck, as well as severe TMJ, and advance stage arthritis in my jaws, which occurred from two severe car accidents when I was younger. I have also been on bed rest over four weeks due to the ugly, awful, deadly demon, whooping cough. There has been a severe outbreak in Minnesota and several other states such as California and Wisconsin. Due to my kidney disease and compromised immune system, sometimes I am susceptible to picking up highly contagious illnesses. This sucks. But it could be worse, I could be dead. I haven’t written because my body has felt weak and my head has been cloudy. I also haven’t written because I really don’t like to talk about my faults, flaws, and illness. However, to give you an accurate view about the obstacles in my life, I feel the need to disclose all of me, the good, the bad and the ugly. I am just now feeling the energy and clear headedness to attempt to write this letter to you.
Roger Jones asked HM this question in 1977, Conversations with Henry Miller – “It must have taken great courage to write the way you have.
HM’s answer: “Oh yes, that I must have had, everybody concedes that. I don’t take credit for it. It was just natural with me. Oh wait a minute, no I’ll modify that. I had to be absolutely desperate before I could write like that. I had been put right down, to the very bottom, ignored, and spat upon, and humiliated. Everything wrong happened to me. And my attitude was, I’ll get back at you, you bastards, fuck you. I’ll show you who I am.” –Conversations with Henry Miller, edited by Frank L. Kersnowski and Alice Hughes. This excerpt was printed in the Queens Quarterly, 84 (1987), 351-65 Henry Miller at Eighty–Four, Roger Jones / 1977 Continue reading
mia loves henry miller
Letter 29 – Early Birthday Surprises, Sybians and Sex Machines
“Suddenly, without let or warning, a dynamo broke loose inside her. Every particle of her molten being was convulsed with shuddering raptures.” –Henry Miller, Crazy Cock
1/23/12 – 9:51 p.m.
Dear Henry Miller,
I’m finally getting the chance to write a kinkier story. However, I felt the need to tell you about Mr. Cali Man, in order to make sense of my upcoming letters. I’ve been itching to write about my highly erotic, Saturday night, ever since it occurred. I had an amazing weekend! I’m still feeling high from it. I told Mr. C that I wanted new, kinky memories for my birthday. I desire more explicit content for my letters to you. I wanted something sexual, sensual and so very naughty.
“When I think of sex I think of it as a universe, part unknown, mysterious, possibly forever unknowable.” –Henry Miller, The World of Sex
I arrived at the loft early on Saturday morning, so I could get a head start on cleaning it for our upcoming evening and guests. Mr. C will meet me here later in the afternoon. We are signing our third lease for our loft, and this was the first time that we were entertaining guests here, which was our main intention when we initially rented it. My mind daydreamed of what might happen later that night as I cleaned. My aroused body craved for our upcoming evening. I could hardly wait. Continue reading