I sit here by the window of my little attic almost too full of happiness to write about it – …I think of my new son — my first boy – only three weeks old – it seems incredible he is a boy – it is just a baby –
I dreamt quite a lot last night. Most of it is vague, but one thing remains—someone said to me “you ought to go back to those old interpretations of nature moods again"...
...It is a compulsive sort of thing; if I have a pencil in my hand, there may be doodles all over envelopes, magazines, or whatever happens to be at hand.
Mother’s desire for flowers to decorate the graves for Memorial Day,took me on a ramble to the woods. But it was not alone for flowers I went – at least they were the smallest part of the harvest. . .
...associate almanacs with the country - short winter days when the sun is dying in mists, early in the afternoon; with horses going along muddy roads; with the S.W. sky at evening.
... I arranged myself and paraphernalia on some rocks to sketch the Three Trees. As I sat I seemed to become a part of the wind-blown grass and to be carried along in space.
Black windshot trees bending against it, with a flutter of white going across them; lightened by suns afterglow – later white moon, dk blue sky, black black windy trees –
Reading in [an] article by Brown where he mentions the village atheist’s grave being decked by wildflowers that do not grow on orthodox graves.
A brisk, cool sunshiny morning…I plant the wild-flowers we got Sunday and spread some of the rotten wood around them. This was a fine thing—The feel and the smell of the rotten wood was exhilarating.
Keller showed and explained the different movements in art from the Old Masters down thru impressionism, pointillism, futurism, cubism and even beyond--metaphysical sensations as Eastman termed them.