It was just in such a neighborhood I grew up in—and it is the commonplace things I have loved and will always love.
The sun had disappeared behind the wooded edge of a hill to the S.W. – I took a walk in that direction thru a swamp, and scrubby woods –
The Metropolitan “Artists for Victory” jury meeting….Many times, when there were long stretches of dull pictures, I had to fight sleep.
The faithful interpretation of natural truths should be a matter of religion—even a bud on a twig wrongly placed would be a sin—An artist should make all the physical acts of his everyday life conform to the laws of nature—
I have never learned to talk & have only listened to the trees.
Night hawk calls in the cool windy twilight – wind at night clattering in leaves like rain –
In studio – work on the “November Sun & Goldenrod” picture of 1952...
By this time it was time to go in for a rest. But the dead goldenrod and corn, lit up by the horizon sun attracted me, [so] that I pause to look at it—a beautiful scene
A world of white – everything covered, even to the finest wires. Yesterday’s threat made good – But the threat was far more beautiful than the carrying out.
Hello, Arthur, did you have any accidents Hallowe’en? We had our celebration Friday night. Say, did I ever send you a picture of the Christian Church saying that I went there?