Oct. 14, 1925
    Peace comes at unexpected times- Last night I was filled with melancholy and despair.  The thousand and one cares and worries to distract one – illness in the family, uninteresting problems at the factory, the cramped life of going to and from the city in crowded buses, arriving at night just as darkness falls, all these contributing to the fact that I get little time to my work  and consequently it progresses slowly or not at all – thoughts of the exhibition I am to hold this winter which is being planned partly because Montross has asked for it, and partly because 59. we need money badly – this last rankled because I feel that exhibitions are an evil, and that a real spiritual aristocrat naturally dreads putting before an  crude public his innermost thoughts and most exalted emotions.  All of these made the night sleep fitful and unpleasant.  Then in the morning as I went out to wait for the bus as the cool spicy breeze came up from the water reflecting the glaring white sun, a strange peace came over me; none of the problems were solved – when the day grew old they would come back again, but just then it seemed good to be alive.