I spent some time wandering around in the woods trying to find just the right spot to carry out my idea, which has obsessed [me] for some time...
I suddenly conceived the idea of composing rhythms + colors...these designs can be thrown upon a screen to a large audience who could watch and receive the same sensations as one listening to notes.
as I sat and beheld the marvelous beauty of the earth, it seemed as tho I should not lose a single moment doing other than just filling the eye—absorbing
A dream – ...I sketched...the weird setting sun thru the doorway of a deserted house
One of the most poetic experiences I ever had was the finding of violets blooming in a cornfield.
Today at the harbor I heard [a] sparrow lisping + whistling—and it reminded me of the first bird song in Spring on a warm day in the marshes. Such things seem gone forever.
Evening- Mr. Siven in with colored movies of his child, and of the sulphur mining processes, which was very interesting. After he was gone, I seemed very much alone. It was still 66. raining outside.
Noticing how a noble row of poplars were becoming yellow leaved, I thought they were changing for autumn. Twinkling yellow against the sky.
Will I ever learn to know birds & trees & plants any better than I do now. My life is leading me further and further from it. Can I ever, sometime, go back and learn anew? Perhaps.
I watch a star low in the east. Sparkles with red, green & blue lights. Wonderfully. As I watch it I entertain thoughts of "art for art's sake." It is clearly fixed in my mind what I shall do.