Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, January 21, 1942

Bitterly cold wind from the N.E. (about 6° above) an elective gray sky, sparse snow falling – drifting –

Walking along the road this afternoon, the realization came over me with overwhelming force that I am mentally asleep, and have lost all sense of true values – wishing for milder weather so I can paint, I am blind to the beauty and power of this zero weather – To me, the artist, interested chiefly in weather – all weather is beautiful, and full of powerful emotion – This “icy blast” from the vast north-eastern wastes – the monotone of gray and black and white, - Trees seem to grow thinner, taller, and shrink into them-selves as do homes and other objects – That I did not realize this shows that I have allowed myself to grow dull and insensitive thru the disuse of my faculties – my ability to enjoy whatever is going on in the world of nature, and the keen delight of painting it down. 

I must search myself – how can I realize otherwise, whether I am drifting into the oblivion of the mediocre artwork – that outlook that the masses hold, and which is worthless – deadening.

Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, January 21, 1942