Letter from Hollis Frampton to Sally Dixon
(7/20/1972)
I assume, or at least I certainly hope, that you have had the prints lang syne...and, even, that you have looked at and enjoyed them. You were to understand, of course, that one of the LEMONS was for you personally. You are becoming a collector of my work, it seems: in fact, possession of the cadaver workprint puts you in rather a unique spot.
Now, herewith, for whatever use or delight, a set of frame blowups from HAPAX LEGOMENA. In fact, ORDINARY MATTER, or part the fifth, is not finished yet: in the midst of all those reeling simplicities, it is becoming one of the most intricate things I have done, at least from the editing point of view...and, it seems, it is to have a bit of color in it, after all, though only the littlest bit. The gods are making me sweat to earn my one-minute straight camera Lumieres.
Just finished correcting & cutting down a pretty good interview I did in London, in May, from 22,000 words to about 15,000. Supposedly it will make up the bulk of an upcoming issue of AFTERIMAGE, along with some pixrs. You'll see, in due time.
It seems as though the hopelessly late garden will nonetheless produce. To my infinite sorrow, the cabbage people (& I had started the entire clan) damped off in a neighbor's green house & the peppers simply will never make it in time. On the other hand, & unexpectedly, my eggplants near puberty, the mimosa’s planted for fun in the vegetable garden are 'sensitive' with only one true leaf apiece, the squash tribe is galloping forward, my Argos melons will probably conquer the world, and the herb garden proceeds headlong to stink in 13 different modalities. The infection of dill alone promises to ravage half of Madison county.
On the whole, though we do live in a vast mess, it is shaping. Plans solidifying for the 32 foot studio dome (to be built NEXT summer, this summer I must trash out the smashed barn.)
I chiefly moan & bitch, when I do, about the amount of WRITING that I must do this summer. That always costs me infinite agaony, & I keep promishing that I'll keep next summer free of it, & just make movies.
Do you remember the tale of Bancroft's burial? well, there are 2 sequels. l) Beard, Bancroft's brother, who disappeared on the day of the slaughter, has miraculously reappeared, having survived a year elsewhere in the valley. 2) I lost another cat in the same way. So I got a young ginkgo tree to serve as his marker. Well, we planted cat & tree on a hot day, tree looking a bit droopy, & I crossed my fingers & prayed for rain.
The next day, the hurricane began. Tree lookin' fine, America
still a little soggy in spots.
Do I have plans for Pitts/ this fall? indeed I do. Will outline in a later epistle. Even the nibble of a plan for yr/ workshop, ie, a course. Will send you a print of THE BIG SWALLOW, for yrself strictly, soon. Love & be well
