Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, March 1, 1962

March 1 – Thursday –

Much colder – (+ 8°) – the sun shining most of the day. Atho there were periods of fine snow from the N.E.

In studio most of the day – with time out of course for dinner, the mail, and then afterward I washed up the dishes for Bertha, and she still does not feel at all well.

Letter from Art; he wants to build a one-unit stereo set, with one cabinet in the center, speakers on both sides. We are up for it, but there is a problem of where to put it – we need the davenport bed in the front room – We must think it over.

In the studio – demounted the 1917 reconstruction “Pine Hollow in Spring” – some day I hope to make a new large picture based on it (40 x 54) – and convert this 1917 to a 22 x 27. The demounting was easy, and by afternoon I had it mounted on a stretched paper, with the additional pieces added –

Demounted also the 40 x 48 – 1917 weather moon and remounted it. (The largest 1917, I think, unless the destroyed blizzard in the woods was larger.)

Also demounted the parts that had been added to one of the Mar. 24 + 25 week-end (of the sunlit country road-) – I plan to remount it, and put blank pieces of paper where the 1917 original was – This mount was stubborn for some reason, and it was after 9:00 at night before I got it all removed.

As sunset approached, the thermometer went steadily down – It is supposed to go to -10° tonight, but that seems doubtful, as now (11:00 P.M.) it is still + 8°.

The air is [unintelligible] and the sky unusually clear – Sirius and Orion are a marvelous spectacle in the S-SW sky – I made notes as to the various colors of the group.

Bed-time music – Bizets’ Symphony #1 – and Mozart’s Symphony #39.

A dream last night –

Near Pinehollow north of Salem, Ohio – in the area just in front of the hollow – Some sort of huge engineering project was in progress. I entered the area to see what was going on. Over the whole area they had built an enormous arching cover or shelter made of cemented rocks – it was very beautiful; tho two stones apparently were the same in size, the dividing cement was about an inch in width, the stones varying tones of gray, tan, ochre, and sienna. Considerable activity, blasting, bull-dozing etc. was going on to the south end.

I was a little fearful of going on under the arched stonework, but finally did so, and immediately came upon a ban, at the head of the dark hallow, where were growing strange flowers, similar to the large anemones (members of the ranunculus family) that are so colorful. At first, I thought then were a new variety of wild-flowers, and thought of digging some up to take home to show Bertha and plant in our garden. But then I saw that the bank led up to a rustic fence, beyond which was an estate of some sort. I went up to the fence, on the other side, lying on a cot near some arbor vitae, was an elderly white-haired lady, I apologized to her for my intrusion, but she seemed friendly enough. Just then her husband came out of the house and wanted to know who I was and what I was doing there. I told him my name was Burchfield and that I was an artist - He interrupted me to say “Burchfield! Naturally, anyone with a name like that would of necessity be an artist.” I woke at this point.  (His remarks recalls one the Prof. Herman Matzen mad in modelling class while I was at the Cleveland School of Art almost the same words – he said “Burchfield! That sounds like the name for an artist” –

Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, March 1, 1962