It is raining—autumn rain at night—Think of birds sitting in bare trees— How does the Underwing Moth that clings to the bark of trees in the daytime protect itself now? Where do the yellow butterflies that sparkle at noon go? What do trees feel like under this wind, & storm & frost, sunlight, decay, leaf-falling and rain? Is that why they look so startled? Is that why houses are so frightened?
To see "Hells Angels" —The scenes in the air maginificent—what beautiful things are airplanes, the most beautiful things are airplanes, the most beautiful things man has created—My longing to own one, to drive one is so great sometimes as to make me momentarily ill—like homesickness.
I should think queer accidental noises, such as the creaking of a wagon on a cold day, or the sound of a pail of water being hit sharply, could be conventionalized & put into musical compositions.
A wild rainy autumn day ending with a sparkling cold night.
In painting the horizon sun; paint a burst of light, then the black jagged edges of trees, + the openings in the trees as misshapen things -
Both of us too tired to get up in time for church – at 12:30 drive down to Hamburg for dinner in the rain, a pleasant meal.
A glorious day packed full of delightful impressions from beginning to end.
Noticing how a noble row of poplars were becoming yellow leaved, I thought they were changing for autumn. Twinkling yellow against the sky.
I am slowly realizing that I will only be able to paint landscape around here.
There were times when , as I was sketching , only the joy of the beauty of my work possessed me. No thought of time, criticism, world or life even. That is heaven.