Month: February 2013

After a letterless five months, I was delighted to receive an illustrated missive in November 1987. Eric wrote the first part of it while visiting the Garden of the Gods, Colorado Springs.

Catherine,

Greetings. I am watching the sunset at this time.

I’m out at the Garden of the Gods which is a large group of rock formations.

It’s only 4 o’clock but the sun will set soon because there are mountains to the west. I wish you were here.

Two dark parallel lines frame a simple sketch of Eric’s view. A hill with three sprouted lines is Norad, and Pike’s Peak is labelled, too. I love how he included the precise height of Pike’s Peak: 14,110 feet. To the right, jagged rocks burst out of the informative illustration box with the caption “Rocks obstructing more mountains.”

Below the box is an apology that holds painful layers of meaning. A five-month gap between two letters in 1987 seems like a brief interlude compared to the stretch of time that continues to expand without mercy after Eric has passed far beyond the world of letters, apologies, and stamps. His silence stretches both backwards and forwards in time.

I’m sorry it has been so long since I have written to you.

If you are wondering why I am writing though, it isn’t to be polite or because I owe you a letter.

It’s because I suddenly got the urge to talk to you. Why this urge? Well, truthfully, you are the first girl I ever felt really close to and you are always a friend (in the sense of friend much different than a superficial “social friend.”)

The three-page letter continues with news of a break-up and a reflection on how the presence of Norad makes Colorado City “one of the targets for a first strike.” With a wavy line to show a time and location break, he promises to finish the letter back at college.

I had a really great Ethics course. I did a lot of thinking. My favorite quote is (in) the class was from Thus Spoke Zarathustra by Nietszche.

Zarathustra is talking to a tightrope walker who is about to die (he fell.) Anyway, the t.w. is worried because the “pious” people told him he was not a good person and would go to Hell. Zarathustra cou(n)sels him:

There is no devil and no hell. Your soul will be dead even before your body.

Fear nothing further. (F. N.)

I think I’ll have this quote inscribed on my tombstone if I have one (which I doubt.) I bet the religious people in my family wouldn’t appreciate the grim humor.

The next letter arrived in April 1987 and introduced me to Eric’s love of Pink Floyd.

I listen to Pink Floyd all the time. I’m doing so right now. The album The Final Cut.

I enjoyed it when Eric told me where he was or what he was listening to while he was writing his letters. It helped me feel connected to his reality even though he lived far away.

The Song is awesome. “Not Now John.” The song is about making a movie.

“Who cares what it’s about as long as the kids (go).”

The opening line is “Fuck all that, we’ve got to get on with these.”

Eric’s next paragraph in the letter turns its attention to another Pink Floyd album, the iconic Dark Side of the Moon. He describes the songs as “very political and philosophical.”

Dark Side of the Moon is a very good album. It’s about death and depression (The “dark side” of human nature.)

One of the songs has the classic line, “All that you touch and all that you see is all that your life will ever be.”

Pink Floyd tends to be very gloomy, but I like it.

A lot of people hear listen to The Grateful Dead. I’ve heard some Dead but I don’t like it too much. Looks like I’m not going to be a “Dead Head.”

By the way, Dark Side of the Moon ends with a faint voice in the background who states, “There is no dark side of the Moon really; as a matter of fact, it’s all dark.” Isn’t that awesome?

I’ve got to go. Love, Eric.

Eric’s next letter arrived a few months later. It’s shorter than most because he was in the middle of his freshman finals. The shape of his letters show his haste, many of them blending together, such as the way the top of the “t” in Catherine stretches to touch the top of the “h.” The calligraphy of swiftness.

Catherine,

I don’t have much time to write because I really have to study for my Physics final. I haven’t done any homework for the class and I’m about 300 page(s) behind.

I feel bad about not writing you. I like you a lot and consider you a very good friend. I hope you realize that. I just noticed that every sentence in this letter begins with “I.” Oh, well.

Do you like The Who? I think they are awesome. The reason I’m writing is because I was listening to “Behind Blue Eyes.” Have you heard the song? It reminded (me) of the conversations we used to have about me . . . . “No one knows what it’s like to be the Bad Man/to be the Sad Man/Behind Blue Eyes.”

Do you know where you are going to school for sure yet? Write back if you want — otherwise I’ll talk to you this summer. Love, Eric

The collages pictured here are the first in a series inspired by eleven letters written by my hometown friend Eric Canuteson. He wrote the first one in 1986, and the last one arrived in 2002 before e-mail took over as our means of correspondence.

Last December, I was devastated to learn that Eric suffered an untimely death at age 43. How could the teenager I had passed notes to during Greek and Roman History no longer be alive? His friendship impacted me immeasurably, and I wanted to honor his memory with an art project that incorporated actual text from the letters and images, people, and places he described.

Preserving examples of Eric’s handwriting feels crucial. Messy, scratchy, sprawling – I love the way he always signed his name in really huge letters. He also was a great one for circling or putting boxes around important phrases and doodling in the margins. They are the letters of a busy, dedicated person who has taken the time to share his thoughts with a friend. I’ll always be grateful to Eric for that.

Before starting this project, I photocopied the letters because I couldn’t bear to tear up the originals. I also gathered up as many images as I could that seemed relevant to the letters’ contexts.

The next collage, “Eric’s Excellent Intellectual Adventure,” takes its theme from the first letter Eric ever sent me. He had just started his freshman year at Colorado College, and I was in my last year in high school. Postmarked September 24, 1986, it describes his classes, first term paper, and grades. He also asked me to pass on some messages to his former teachers, including a tongue-in-cheek summary of his political views.

I used the actual postmark from the envelope for this collage. The postmark and the political figures Eric mentions place our friendship in historical context, for his letters are both cherished personal souvenirs and valuable documents that give us a snapshot of an era. It seems an obvious point, but it still astonishes me that Eric’s first letter existed in a world before South African apartheid ended, before the Berlin Wall fell, before Clinton (sandwiched between the elder and junior George Bush), before 9/11, and before Obama.

I am a Liberal and always have been one.

Reagan Sucks.

Rehnquist Sucks (Rightquest)

Death to Fascism.

Daniel Monion is a joke. (It took me awhile to figure out that Eric was referring to Daniel Moynihan, whose name didn’t register in my memory bank of late 1980’s political figures).

Support the ANC!

I hate Republican business majors.

There aren’t any here, thank God.

I really like how he put the title “Mr.” in quotation marks next to his name. At age 18, maybe he didn’t comfortably inhabit the title Mr. Eric Canuteson, so he left the “Mr.” outside the box he drew around his new contact details.

The same letter of September 24, 1986 testifies to Eric’s academic success in his crucial first year of college. With Eric’s ambitious spirit and fierce intelligence, he laid a strong foundation to later complete his Ph.D.

I was impressed by Eric’s go-getter attitude in all the years I knew him, but that’s not to say he couldn’t be laid back, too. I loved the part in the letter where he admits he put off writing his paper to watch an Eagles versus Bears football game.

I got a B+ on my very first college paper (I wrote it in a very short time because I was watching football.)

An arrow starting from the letter “a” in football points to the words “Eagles v. Bears” floating in the space above the first line of the letter.

The letter goes on to describe how he received an A on his final test.

I got the highest grade in the class — there were only two A’s. By the way, My class is SATIRE AND CARICATURE.

I’m taking Russian (7 hours of it, no less) in the 5th and 6th blocks. (Colorado College’s block program allows its students to focus intensely on one class at a time in a series of eight blocks a year).