Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

work to pack leaves around the part of the house where our water-pipes are exposed to cold, when Donald Vettler came out to see me (he had stopped at the house.) I know who he was but could not recall his name. We went in the studio awhile & I showed him some of my recent things. Then we went into the house. Bertha meanwhile had started lunch & we persuaded him to stay. He was on his way home, & was intending to do the 750 miles non-stop—so wanted to get on his way. We enjoyed his visit. P.M. finished my job & fill it with leaves. A fine foreboding look to the sky—and all objects had deep Sepia black shadows under them. Balance of afternoon in studio, studying pictures etc. The melancholy twilight of November glowers in the windows. Evening B & I play rummy— Nov. 20, (Thurs.). All day in studio on painting suggested by farm & woods south of E. Aurora. At the end of the day, when I took it in the house—B thinks it is all good but the sky, which, it soon became apparent, was too forceful and of a savory color (too blue gray) and moreover, it had the appearance of an angry whiskered moon (the holes in broken clouds, thru which sunlight showed). Later Hank described it aptly as looking like a comic strip version of the north wind blowing out of the sky. I must change it, and I think a quieter effect, such as a sun fading in a snow bank, would be more suitable, with warmer tones in the sky.  Evening—rummy—Nov 21—(Fri.) A day of odd jobs—to bank for money—making a new painting