Not so cold (+10°) – Sunny, with beautiful small cumulous clouds, dazzlingly white – at morning (particularly and at various other times) the air full of snow crystals,
The recurrent blizzard and storms of this winter have fired me with the impulse to paint a blizzard. As the starting point or plan for this, I am using the 1918 "Blizzard" (two ghostlly windblown
All at once cardinals and peter-birds seemed to go mad for they began to call and sing on every hand. I simply stood still listening. And then, - more wonderful still – I heard the song of a songsparrow. I then, was not the only one who believed spring was coming.
The sun was well up in the sky by this time, but such a dense mist obstructed his view, that his heat as yet had no effect on the frost, which covered the ground everywhere, while trees were bare of it.
Nature has ways of breaking all resolutions, however, good or bad. This morning when I awoke and looked out, the struggle began.
There were blood-curdling screaming in the violins like savages yelling (abstractly, not photographically) and broad deep-toned blares on horns. It made me think of the abstract qualities of huge tiles, or some giant hitting boxcars together - genuinely creative music.
What is the secret of Sibelius’ grim originality? The determination to stand alone, and the iron will to carry it thru, keeping his work pure and unsullied by the current decadence in art; by keeping lonely vigils with nature, whereby he comes to know her in all her true aspects unsoftened by sentimentality.
The path to mediocrity, which so many writers and artists travel is not hard to trace –
How different the world is after a man has found a woman whom he can construct a plan of his future —
The “wide open” February Thaw weather continues – Street corners on filthy main streets, take on a mysterious thrill.