[Letterhead]

BARBIZON . PLAZA . HOTEL
101 west 58th street . . . central park south . . new york

[Written at an angle across page in different pencil than the letter]
Emmy Lou Packard
773 Cragmont Ave
Berkeley Cal.

Frida my dear —

Here I am in your hotel.
Every morning when I pick up
the blue paper box with the
thermos of lousy coffee and the
rolls and butter, I always think
that soon the bathroom door will
open and you will walk out
majestically with a white towel
around your head, and a pleated
white flounce to your skirt and
a shrug to your shoulders and
a whoosh! to your derrière.

We can’t move into our new
apartment for a few weeks — so

[Letterhead]

cable address “barbplaza” . . . . telephone CIrcle 7-7000

we are staying here and making
believe that we are traveling in a
strange city. We even stop to
look at the bronze signs on
monuments for the first time
and Sol and I diddle in the
afternoon instead of in the
evening. That makes a holiday
always. God how I miss you
here.

Yesterday Sol and I drove
up to the country and we
surprised [Mam] Meredith who
didn’t expect us at s all and
hadn’t thought of us for months.
She has a very cunning, very
little house (like her) on the
top of a little hill and all

[Letterhead]

[“—2 —” written at the top of the page]

the [illegible] walls are very very
white and the furniture is pale
blue and bright yellow and
there are starched white curtains
in all the little windows —
like the kind of house you
make when you are a little girl.
Only in her mother’s room there
was an amusing bed. She called
it a sleigh bed — but to me
it was the kind of bed which
if I had it, I would be
a whopper of a bitch, but
with tight-laced corsets on
top so it doesn’t show.

[Mam] has a very pretty
daughter who is very good & I
think will have an easy life
because other people will do things
for her. That is a very special
kind of goodness — the kind
which doesn’t make you sacrifice
yourself for people, but which
doesn’t let you spoil because
other people sacrifice for you.

We wanted to get Nick too but
I didn’t telephone where I knew
I could find him, only where he
is supposed to be, where of course
he was not. You really ought
to come to get to N.Y. — if only
to get him out of the fangs of
this new one. She lives in our

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[“—3 —” written at the top of the page]

new house. What I would
enjoy is the kind of backstairs
intrigue that would develop
if you came to stay with us. Just
imagine it, me darlin!

Now that I’m on that subject,
how about it? We are going to
have a room for you, very light,
light enough to paint in, if you
come to New York. Choose, my
proud beauty, Diego or us !!!!!
If I had crooked dice, I’d
bet on us, Frida linda. How
will it go? My dear, the past
months getting used to living
without Diego were so hard for you.

[“—4 —” written at the top of the page]

What will you do now. You
have suffered so to make the
separation possible. Will you
go back and start over again
or will you go on by yourself.
I wish you were strong enough
in your body for it.

I read the story in the Times
a few days ago. Did you see it?
Were you interviewed or is it
gossip?

When you can do so, write
me a letter. Tell me the most
important things first, and then —
if you want to come to New
York when St. Luke tells you to
get out, and if you want to
stay with us and let me take

[Letterhead]

[“—5 —” written at the top of the page]

good care of you (good care is
apt to be dull) I heard a song
from Trinidad the other night that
you would like — “from the logical
point of view, you oght ought to
marry a woman uglier than you.”
What do you want to be now —
logical and comfortable — or —-
just “loco”? Don’t ask me, I never
could answer that question with a
period. And today there are fewer
and fewer questions I can answer at
all. I don’t know anything. I
don’t know what to believe, only
whom to love, Sol and you and
Alma and maybe the children when
I know them like Linda.

[“—6 —” written at the top of the page]

Trotsky’s death must have
knocked all political faith out
of you. I knew it was coming
sooner or later, but it was a
shock just the same — and
the worst part of it came
afterward when Meyer and I read
in the Times a Tass dispatch
to Moscow saying that Trotsky
had been killed by one of his
own followers and we saw the
face of our old friend Kenneth
Durant who is editor of Tass
as something sinister and brutal,
knowing how responsible they must
have been themselves.

But just because we are so
uncertain about the future, I

[Letterhead]

[“—7 —” written at the top of the page]

would like to have you near me,
at least see you again. This
summer when I was so unhappy
I knew I must see you this
winter. And now that I have
had such good news of your back,
I am full of hope — and so much
love for you.

Make your decision about Diego —
it will be so hard for you — and
tell me where I will see you,
here or in Mexico.

Hasta la vista

Mary

Your photograph knocked me for a loop,
just like one of your paintings!

[The following is written at various angles in different pencil than the letter]

Central de P
Avenida Juarez 4

Misrachi
Alberto

Tell me that
you love me

Dr.
Long

I adore you
??love??
love