Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, December 21, 1930

The zero hour of the year – quite fittingly a heavy blanket of clouds obscured the sun and sky from the earth – it is twilight at noon –

I fell to brooding over all my artistic misdeeds of the past eight years – what sins I have committed- 
Self-satisfaction-
Smugness over a little flurry of material success 
Thinking “What will the public think of this picture?”
Using worn out tricks of representation- To what depths have I not fallen – can I get out of the pit unscathed?

Charles E. Burchfield, December 21, 1930