Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

5. southern shore of Lake Erie, close to the waters [sic] edge, and this room situated in the northwest part of the building. A March storm was raging out of the north; the roar of the waves penetrated the room and dominated all other sounds; then it seemed as if the waves came right into the room, covering part of it, and then receding thru the walls as tho they were made of mist; and then kept surging thru again & again – Once I saw a girl walking down the aisle almost engulfed; outside thru the window I could see the phalanxes of waves rushing toward the shore – I was filled with delight that I was to be in this room where the elements were so close, and came into the room.

Since then, the strange abstract dream-quality of the storm over the Lake has remained with me as some remnant of my boyhood, when natural events loomed larger than they do now. Perhaps it is even some vague memory from my first four years of life at Ashtabula some storm perhaps that made an impression on my infant mind, forgotten till now it turns up in a dream. For I believe that an impression once recieved [sic] whether consciously or subconsciously never leaves the mind.