Arthur’s last year to celebrate with Firecrackers. Evening our usual celebration with the “House on-Fire as a grand finale...
Fleabane in shadow — the color is almost indescribable — it is a lavender, but it has an intense electric quality that is hard to pin down — it floats and quivers, in front of a sea of yellow sunlight, and other brilliant white fleabane- an ephemeral sort of thing.
Working on frames–very hot, but dry. All day the robins on all sides singing madly. Is there truth in the old saying that when they do this they are calling for rain?
Melancholy possesses me at my happiest moments – I cannot understand it – At night I like to hear a remote train-whistle – it leads my mind into wierdly melancholy imaginings.
Letter from Hermon More that Whitney Museum plans on retrospective of my work in the Fall of 1955.
Evening - Great thunderheads moving majestically thru the Southern sky – tops lit up by the sun, long below the horizon.
"...June Day – I saw the sunset thru a hayfield...A coppery sunset..."
Mounting in studio, studying & planning reconstruction of 1917 pictures – working in yard, etc. – trips to movies.
– a brilliant day after the heavy rainstorms of the day before – great dark gray clouds with blinding white tops. Fields rank with flowers – white daisies, buttercups, Purple-pink clover...
To the scene of Wednesday’s sketching to make more notes for the picture, which had been full of flaws. Afterwards I wandered southward and sat in a meadow by a woods...