Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

only what I wanted to do personally, and what was best for my work. So I chose to stay here. And today as I stood on the cement abutment by the curb in front of our house, looking at the ice-jammed creek, and feeling the stormy keen wind as it came out of the vast sunlit southern sky, I felt a wave of gratitude and peace sweep over me, as tho [sic] I had been delivered from some disaster! – I am determined to continue with my painting until it is absolutely impossible to do so. Evening – all but Sally & Art to concert – (Minneapolis Symph. Orch. With Mitropoulos) – A program I cared little for (an overture by [Berlitz] – The Rachmaninoff Concert #2 for piano, & his recently (1940) composed dance symphony.) The concerto has always struck me as the ultimate in polite meaningless phrasings. Never does it get out of the stuffy draining room atmosphere; where nothing untoward ever happens or is said – and of course, nothing of even the remotest significance ever occurs. The dance symphony is infinitely better – and would bear more listening to. The only compensation I could salvage from the affair, has admiration for the superb playing of everyone concerned. At the end, two lively encores were given, and then as a parting shot a robustly played “Anchor’s [sic] aweigh” which pleased everyone very much. When we came out, it was colder, and snowing. We stopped at a cafeteria for coffee & rolls, and then got the 12:00 bus – The bus was literally jammed to the doors, but we combined