Sketching around town — building tops on Main near Chippewa. Then to lunch at one-arm.
Beyond E. Aurora on Hill above Olean Rd, painting – the first trip painting outdoors since last August –
A mild soft breeze from the south, the sky partly cloudy & with a misty sun at times; snow melting rapidly the roads full of black water –
The ice-storm has transformed everything- a 3/8” crust on the snow. A fresh dampness to the air...
My whole existence seems to stretch forth as one continual fight against myself. There seems never to be a point where I can say to my soul “I own you.” The universe becomes too complex.
We discussed also the recent fiascos of trying to buy the Van Gogh [Vincent] and de Champagne [Phillippe].
I wonder if it would be possible to single out any one day – or event in a day, and say “This is the first sign of Spring.” (For true Spring has nothing to do with the March Equinox) – Sometimes early in January the glow of light under the eaves of a house at sunset will give a subtle hint — More positive is, (as happened this year) a brilliant sunny day early in February when little hummocks of snow catch the sunlight in a blinding white glare, which is in violent contrast to rich cold blue shadows streaming over the gray snow (gray because it receives the sunlight obliquely) — Another hint is the way smoke from a chimney looks against the pale afterglow in the sky on a midwinter day.
Going over the 1918-1919 & 1920 notes for Bertha to mount in books –
A.M. call from Schenk – to tell me I had been awarded the James Carey Evan memorial prize (which Bertha looked up and found to be $60)...
" Day opens with a heavy frost. Early long streamers come and streaks the sky. Sunlight becomes hazy. On a walk in park at noon I note how intensely quiet it is..."
– The spring like light coming over the roofs of nondescript houses on Utica St – a poignant nostalgic feeling.