The Purple Plain] Anyway, I was just flipping channels, and there was Peck in his luminous wonderfulness gazing down at an alluring misty-eyed Asian woman - Vietnamese? Thai? - and she seems to be an Untouchable Annabel Lee exotic type to his dreamy military-uniformed self. They chastely hug, in this brief scene I caught while flipping channels, but clearly The Passion Flows Deep, and I wondered why they didn't kiss. In this black-and-white film, which I guess to be from maybe the early 1960s [Ed: 1954] - was it too risqué for a mixed-race couple to kiss? Probably. The film, I'm sure, predates Guess Who's Coming to Dinner. But the snippet of the film I saw was acutely & immediately painful to me - I watched for only a minute or two, until I really couldn't bear it any longer. And then it was the top of the hour - 1:00 - and C.R. was on. It is uncanny how when we sit down to eat, D and I - and I need the TV on, because I cannot abide the sound of chewing - it is almost always "five-of" or "twenty-five" after. I've remarked on it, and D's noticed it too - and it's completely unplanned, it just seems to keep working out that way. And that's how I caused myself some inadvertent, ridiculous, driveby pain, seeing that glimpse of Gregory Peck with his "Asian Ideal."
I don't quite get why it all still gets at me so. Maybe because I'm just so frustrated here. It's a strain to live this way. Things are so strange between D and me.
I don't know, sweetheart. This is a pretty accurate driveby snapshot of where my head is at the moment. Sometimes when I emotionally plummet when I happen to go over a broody deep end thinking of 1.0 - I'm able to cheer myself up to think of you. Actually I'm quite serious about that. It's as though I "self-medicate" with thoughts of you. Because I view you as, towards me, constant and abiding. You're unavailable, but I guess I get the feeling that if suddenly you were free & clear - that you would pick me. Now maybe this is all false & delusional as all the rest of it - and yet - well, anyway, I just find you extremely, extremely genuine in that way. There's no way you would have picked me lightly, I don't think. I can't imagine it.
Speaking of Dorian Gray darling (apropos an apposite page hit) - to quote or paraphrase Oscar Wilde - a memorable line I remember from a college course on Aesthetics taught by a tiny woman who in her Viennese infancy had sat on Freud's knee - the best picture of a fuzzy picture - is a fuzzy picture.
And so yes, dear love, here, tonight, is my fuzzy picture to you. I can sense that things aren't easy for you either -
Many kisses. You are very dear to me -