To an artist, a hatch of sunlight (from an opening in the clouds) glowing over a snow-covered meadow, is of more importance than a knowledge of the charmed composition of the sun or its significance in our galaxy.
a dream of starting out to sketch when it was yet winter
...a biting cold wind from east – I love the hard winter quality of such a day.
A sundazzled morning. Dripping of lengthening icicles. P.M. To Bentleys + Farqhuars - Clear blue + green sky - white dappled vivid blue streaming over yellow snow from tree bases -
Still the same indefinite cloudy weather – stagnant –
In a poverty stricken House – In the window the unkempt gray head of an old man leaning to the window to catch the last fading light of the day on his reading – The light comes from the Northwest...
Evening to library to look up Zodiac. I found that the sun enters each “sign” on the 21st of each month.
Watching the sunlight on distant smoke today–how far away and remote it seemed–
The early afternoon sun had pierced the clouds for a moment...
To a party ‘till three and a dance ‘till six, and coming home from the dance after six, I thought upon the amazing possibilities of an all night walk under such a moon.