Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

A2000.001.017.094

[inscription reads] " ering what it is and yet do not. This leaves one partly in a state of bliss and part unsatisfied yearning. My eye caught the top of the distant Cigar Mountain and I remembered of a day spent on its woody pastures one windy day last summer when the air was full of flying leaves for here is felt the supreme force of the wind as nowhere else, of sitting down on a slippery grassy slope under some stiff chestnuts, and it seemed to my inner consciousness as if I had felt a peculiar elation which I could not now experience. My "