Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

went back to bed, to continue the “Random Harvest”, while B & S play games downstairs.; At ten, the two youngest come in, all aglow over a decisive victory; and at midnight, the two eldest came, likewise aglow over a superb concert. So that it was a happy gathering. Mary Alice said she envied Mart going to school tomorrow where [he] could without inhibitions, discuss the concert, while she (M.A.) would have to go to the store, where she would not even dare mention going to a concert. I could feel sympathy for her, because it recalled my own position at the Mullins Co. office where I worked for many years. I never dared mention any interest in anything even remotely related to cultured things – music, good literature, or (and least of all) my painting. I think these years of repression, during my earlier career fastened upon me a habit of reticence that clings to me now, even when I am with completely sympathetic people. It is resented by many people, as indicating indifference or lack of trust on my part. Knowing this, I sometimes seek to break out of this encompassing barrier, with the result that I become over-garrulous, and reveal too much, with the added result that I withdraw even further within, for self-preservation.Dec. 9, 1942 – (Wed.); Still reading in “Random Harvest” – a fine description of autumn in London brings forcibly to the front of my mind, the ache that