I feel more and more unhappy that I am failing to paint the fresh late Spring season. The magic time of Summer Solstice is fast approaching—I must somehow do something of this great moment when the sun and earth meet in their greatest intimacy—a truly mystical event.
Slept until 10:00 – up & feel refreshed & with renewed faith in my work.
It is raining - how truly divine is such an event in June - everything bespeaks the presence of God.
Misty Morning – A stray wind clatter rain drops from warm wet trees. – towards noon sky clears hazily, hot sun beats down throwing circular shadows under trees – looming thunderheads
– I have always felt the years of 10 to 12 were the “golden” age of childhood, the time when they are least self-conscious and of easy access.
The beginning of this picture was a small watercolor (27 x 20) painted in Bedford Glens, South of Cleveland, Ohio in 1918. The original watercolor has been incorporated in the final painting –
Today I painted a moonlight fantasy based on these memories, with enormous elm-shaped phantoms rising up toward the moon, white-crowned—a "never-never land" that fills me with happiness.
The warm moist air of a spring day when it has been training—a fresh breeze comes up over the oily waters of the slip, bringing with it the smell of wheat, of crushed linseed, and the vague fishy smell of the lake—
Summer is here all at once – it is no longer the May or June of the Bobolink – This AM the still hot white sunlight from the tremendous vast East -
The hot hazy June noon – circular [shade] under trees, looming majestic thunderclouds, the [trees’ lone] dignity - storm to north rumbling darkly –