After lunch which B & I had alone (the children having taken their lunches on account of the weather) I played, in the house, the Sibelius 4th — I realized anew that it is not only Sibelius’ top achievement, but the summit of all musical art, after Beethoven. Many years will pass before the full significance of it will be realized.
Bloodroot Hollow; While in town freakish hideous houses rear up in queer attitudes; A screaming freight-whistle opens up the far stretching hills to the south; a hoarse passenger train whistle comes out of the west –
I thank God for this renewal of my creative power.
I worked on with joy and exuberance, with a feeling of power such as I have not known for months – At the end of the day, exhausted mentally & emotionally I called B out to look at it. She was completely "bowled over" by it, and declared it to be one of my best. In a daze of happiness all evening.
After mailing the letters, to the studio for a couple hours. Exhausted, but persisted in looking at sketches—Mainly those of the winter of 1917
I paint all day. Afternoon water-color sketch out of the window.
A wonderful wild day of blizzards. I droned indoors working on a screen design which I hated...
"...I have been thinking about god today and wonder if I am such a disbeliever as I thought. To belief or disbelief in God only a state of the mind?"
To the Sheraton-Brock where we got “our” table over-looking the falls – By now a cloud film had dimmed the sun, and the Falls were lit up by a pale silver-gold light, ethereal and mysterious.