I left NYC almost three years ago, after a creative sojourn in Williamstown, MA. In a letter written from a dude ranch in Nevada in the mid-50's, holed-up trying to expedite a divorce, Bellow catches something of what prompted my move:
'This sort of life suits me more than I thought possible. I fish and ride, and walk and read and write; at moments I even think. On Columbus Day I lit a candle, for isn't this what America was supposed to be?
Wasn't one supposed to think a bit here?'
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