Examinations to-morrow and I am exempt in everything! So were Bill and Bud - I guess we were the only three in the class.
The Brook was fairylike, - the black ice dotted with white bunches of fernilke frost. Here and there the water gave forth solitary warbles, like a blackbird’s liquid call.
All things are possible now. I felt like throwing a gauntlet into the face of the whole world; let me, like a winter wind sweep all of the debris of the centuries away, I – alone – unaided!
For some reason while I was walking along yesterday I thought of a painting I started in 1917 of two hollows - one representing spring & life and [the] other winter and death -
Thinking of an artist who yearns to compose wonderful music, yet what he sees with his eyes is the overwhelming instinct –
So I told the remark Du Bois [erased and covered with ???] once made about my work ‘Burchfield is only Hopper on a rainy day’ –
There have been many explanations of dreams, most of them futile; my own has been simply that previous experiences or thoughts, uncontrolled by the conscious mind, run riot in sleep...
As I was shaving -- in the bathroom, after school I happened to look out of the window. The sun was just falling into a yellow and orange mist - not a red or yellow disc but a fiery ball of gold.
When I went out to the studio to check on the furnace (which yesterday had failed to operate, the temperature in the studio being 34) – it was into a fantastically beautiful world . . .
All night the wind howled thru the skylight - 11:00 a.m. walk after breakfast to Jersey street towards the lake - a terrific wind - loose scattered masses of flying clouds - southeast sunlight -