Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, June 13, 1940

A restless night, tortured by all manner of remorse, regrets, about my work and life in general.

A.M. A cool misty cloud day-life seems good again. The war has become remote again, and my own feeling again that my job is my painting. I have the feeling again today that the whole struggle is a political and economic one direct by the jealousies of minority groups in each country, and that great masses of innocent men are being used by the aristocratic groups, on one hand, to hold what they have and by another group on the other hand, which wants to create a new empire.

Ghastly as is the plight of the unfortunate peoples who are caught between these two groups and whipped into destroying each other, there is little I can do about it and my job is to continue my work as long as I can, “for the night may be coming when I can’t work.” ; God is very near today and on every hand. Oh, that I was nothing of his presence. But His nearness only makes me aware of my baseness.

Worked in the garden, and enjoyed it.

Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, June 13, 1940