Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

spot for a pageant, using the woods as a back-drop, preferably something to do with Indians, such as the story of Hiawatha.April 25, Friday—A brooding day, cloudy, a feeling of rain at any moment a vague silvery light from above—A.M. Restless unable to settle on much. Finished the re-mounting & reconstruction of “New Albany”—Hating myself for my painting inactivity.P.M. Finally, desperate, I decide to make a painting of the pear-tree Albarelli’s backyard, and put into it all the mood of the day and my own tortured spirit. Just as I set up my paraphernalia, it commenced to rain, so I had to put up my umbrella also, which is always a hindrance as to lightning. (Which is another source of irritation to me—namely—my projected plan for making a transparent rain-shelter I cannot bring myself to start it, fearing that it will not work).—Painted until six o’clock when the light began to fall (the rain ceased soon after I started).

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Evening—Mart down (as it is the day Hank works from 3:30 -11:30.) “Walked” her home about 9:30. The same hazy crescent moon as last night, perhaps even more elusive. Apr. 26—In bed last night I lay unable to sleep tortured by self-doubt and a feeling that my painting of yesterday was merely trying to escape my real work.Today yesterday’s sketch looks well—Most of the day in studio—transferring the drawing of the additions