Script Page 14


(On his estate planning)

I guess when I die Karl Jaeger will look after my place. He likes art. He done a lot for time he came out here and wanted me to go around the world with him. Paint in every country I wanted. That school of his.

I told Jaeger: "There is no reason to go around the world. There is life right here in Franklin County."

Hell, I didn't wanna paint the pyramids. Not 'till I saw them the first time. That first trip took me eight months...I shipped back about a hundred canvases. Had a hellava show that year.

Then the last time he was going, he came around again and said I should go. I said, hell, I can't afford to go 'round the world. Asked him how much it was going to cost that year...he said forty- seven hundred dollars or something like that. I had about as much chance of getting forty-seven hundred dollars as that snowball in a oven. We were sitting right there at that table...He looked up at one of my favorite model...said how much do you want for that one?

I never even got a chance to look up. He said he'd buy it. Gave my forty-seven hundred dollars and told me to get packed. I packed.

So, when I die, Jaeger'll look after things.

Everyone says Kennedy or a Rocky-feller should be president because they'll not have to steal the country blind. Guess that makes sense. I'm again both the bastards for other reasons, but you gotta admit they're honest.

And Jaeger...Christ, he could come in here and ask me for anything he liked and I would give it to him. He liked my stuff, that's reason enough. But he always bought. So I figure I got an honest man here...and he'll do what should be done...give some of it to galleries.

Get rid of the body. I told Tommy Thompson just to put a match to me. Told Betty she could just flush me down the John...they're my friends and they'll see to it.

I figure if they cremate me...and dump my ashes in Hoover Dam, then every time you take a drink of water from the tap, I'll be part of every son of a bitch in town...

It's a phenomina of man's mentality to think that we cannot get together...and iron out our differences. I am awfully sure that the western world is not all right. And the Communist world is not all wrong.


(EB is disturbed over total French influence)

Americans can do their own thinking. If our inheritance, if our the culture of the whole world comes from ancient China...and ancient Greece, that is our inheritance, then our sole duty is to add to that...something on our own.

There I git in trouble.

From here on out, I don't bleve (believe) that culture will be nationalistic in the future I think that the great paintings of the the future...and I think there will be great paintings... will be international.

The time has past when deGaulle can glorify the Frenchman and the Italian can glorify the Italian...and Brazil can say "we're just as big as America, U.S.A. We too can out-paint them if we go and study in France."

It is time that the human world should think a woman, a female in any place in the world, the same sun shines on a face, a head, a body, the water, the earth, or is universal.

I myself, have been in 40 countries. I painted a few pictures in many of those countries. And I suppose history will say I am an American painter.

It is a pure acc-i-dent (accident) I was born in Ohio.


But, a man, like Hemingway, who was influenced by Jack London who was influenced by those he had read...this is a necessity, he had a sensitivity...he had a way of putting words together that was genius. Later in life he lost this sensitivity. He became a legend in his own time and tried to live up to this legend, he tried to perform fantastic feats.

I remember one time I picked up LOOK magazine and there was this handsome picture of Hemimgway, beard combed, standing erect, with the bush all around him. There he is with a gun. And there is the rhino. He is gonna shoot this poor dumb animal. Now I'm the kind of a guy who looks at this picture and sees what is behind it. What it didn't show was the dozen hunters behind him, ready to shoot if things got out of hand. Hell, it must have cost twenty-five thousand dollars just to shoot one picture. Hemingway is going to write a movie about this rhino and what a hell of a time they had shooting the animal. Well this is color. It isn't great writing, it's stupidity. I lived in Spain. He didn't know much about bull fighting. He knew superficially what bulls were like. The Spaniards really didn't like Hemingway. Why doesn't he stick to his own country and write about baseball? Well, I don't say that. I say that he's got a privilege of writing about anything he wants. But the last word I would say about writers, that makes me feel badly about, Hemingway, is he shouldn't develop into a giant of the earth.

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