Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

Oct 5, 1914. / All is awry with me. The beauty I saw while at home this summer, beauty that seemed perpetual does not come now. I entertain cheaper thoughts. The city is nothing but imitation & hyp¬ocricy (sic). / I must up & away from this. I must regain my lost ground. It is but a little slip, but I must take firmer step lest I tumble. / The dry season continues. There are no vivid colors. Nature is drying a dead yellow. Moon clear.