The most pernicious bore of all is that writer on music who fancies he has achieved originality by running counter to the generally accepted estimate of a composer’s music.
You fool! Live one day at a time! Maybe you or some loved one will be sick tomorrow; maybe someone will come to interrupt you the day after; maybe you will die tonight; but you’ve got today. Live it!
Workmen on their way home would cluster about the window, looking at the pictures with evident pleasure. It gave me a feeling of nostalgia and even regret, for long ago I lost contact with that kind of audience...
P.M. A painting, from our stair-landing, of the view across Bengert’s garage. All afternoon – I was indeed “rusty” from my long idleness — It was hard to get started, and it was not until the last that anything like boldness or freedom came to me. The finished sketch had enough in it to make me feel good.
The January thaw.—Thick almost impenetrable fog—The pores of the earth seem to open and exude a chill dampness into the sodden air—
It is simply part of my mental make up, that I am satisfied to express my own surroundings as nearly as possible in my own way.
At sundown a pale smooth cold blue – grey bank of cloud came up out of the west – it hung like there like a phantom – the houses seemed to shrink – at midnight a heavy snow is falling –
A dream, most of which evaporated with waking. Out there remains the memory of finding two pair of beautiful moths by the side of a dark green pool...
A week spent in reading up and relocating things in the studio — The carpenters finished up Tuesday at noon —
A brilliant sun shone from a clear blue sky, in which there were just a few elongated cirrus cloud masses. Temp. about 20° - no wind.