During a blizzard the night before Thanksgiving a flash of pink lightning and a clap of thunder—the wonder and mystery of nature were reborn—It is Thanksgiving morning—
A cold damp lovely morning – intensely brilliant horizon sky; tops & edges of all things jet black & vibrating – Noon – scatters rain – silvery glittering house roofs – a wet chimney one side lit up from light space in sky – a strange sensation of far off.
P.M. new glasses – I am amazed at the clarity of my distance
...snow-spirit – a religious whitish violet light comes from above – objects a short distance are like ghosts...
Dream –
In a deserted farmhouse in southern Wyoming (N.Y.) County – a criminal of some sort comes into the house intent on killing me...
All day in the studio – A.M. – studying various picture[s] – the 1961 variation on “Hemlock in November” The solution came to me all at once – it will mean shifting the composition about and enlarging the picture (from 45 x 38 to 45 x 54) but it fills me with joyful anticipation –
... the realization of my utter loneliness, and its uncompromising necessity swept over me, almost crushing me with despair—that is gone now and I sit surrounded by all of the ideas I love, freed by the realization that crowds and companionship are not for me.
I realized anew the whole key to my life + my art—It was just in such a neighborhood I grew up in—and it is the commonplace things I have loved and will always love. Whoever would understand my art must realize this first. And whenever I forget this, my art deteriorates.
The Metropolitan "Artists for Victory" jury meeting. I do not intend to try to give a complete account of this event as time and my present energy are not sufficient for the task.
Altho snow was promised “over the radio” and on my walk to the post office I could almost “taste” snow in the raw east wind...