avel the questions which bothered her through
her own thinking.

But from a rational point of view some of her feelings and emotions
were very devastating for her own existence and her own serenity. And
her deep attachment to the family was also a source of pain and
suffering because of its acuteness. There was not much family left
but for those who remained, Nelka gave a full measure of love and
devotion. The loss of those close to her were blows which did not
heal easily and caused deep pain. The death of her little dog Tibi
likewise gave a nearly exaggerated frustration and grief. Just like
everything else in her life, Nelka's grief was complete. She in
everything understood and accepted only completeness. Nothing in her
life meant anything if it was only partial. She could never settle
for 50%, always seeking totality, only completeness, and this of
course is a tremendous strain on one's person. That strain I think
showed itself in Nelka for many years of her life and only towards
the later part of it she seemed to acquire some stability of feeling
and emotional impulse. There was a reason for that of which I will
speak later.

A friend of hers once said about her, "She was a tremendous
personality and such force."

Like all humans she had her weaknesses, but these weaknesses were in
a way her force, for by sheer will power, by determination or by
uncompromising dedication, she was able to control or overcome her
weaknesses. Not many are able to do that.

She had many friends in all walks of life and in different countries
of many nationalities, but always the reaction was the same--a
complete spell of attraction and fascination and generally a long
lasting friendship--which once established, was never broken. And
that because of that tremendous personality.

Around 1885 lived a young Russian girl, Marie Bashkirtzeff. She wrote
some prose and poetry and did some painting. She lived and died very
young from TB on the French Riviera in Nice. Not particularly pretty,
nor particularly striking, she had nevertheless a tremendous
personality. In fact so striking that the city of Nice after her
death created a Museum Bashkirtzeff where were kept her paintings,
her writings and her personal things. The French author Francois
Coppee said of Marie Bashkirtzeff: "Je l'ai vue une fois, je l'ai vue
une heure, je ne l'oublirais jamais." (I saw her once, I saw her one
hour--I shall forget her never.)

I think as far as pe