Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

whistling old airs to pass the time. B thought my sketch good. As usual I am too tired to see any virtue in it.To bed & listen to Detroit Symphony play Brahms 2nd. ; ; ; ; ; Wed. Nov. 17—A brisk wind and great layer clouds sweeping across the sky—some rain at early morning.A.M. letter to Art & making studies from our back yard for the December Storm picture.Letters to Art & CathieP.M. walk to P.O.—The sun and wind on lawns—never have I seen suck luxuriant green grass in November—How beautiful is the Earth!Evening—we drove in to the Strand, but a long line of patrons and a sign announcing the giving away of 12 turkeys discouraged us; we knew the theater would be packed. So home & listened to radio. ; ; ; ; ; Thursday—Nov. 18—Shortly after midnight a terrific explosion awoke me. The house shook several times even after I was entirely awake. Soon after fire whistles began to blow—I got up; brilliant moonlight flooded the earth, but in the S.W. the sky a pole pink—B also got up & we watched together. Every few minutes there would be a brilliant flash & seconds later the impact of the explosion would reach us. This morning we learned it was a chemical plant on Seneca St. Evening to Strand—“Tap Roots” very good. ; ; ; ; ; ; Fri. — Sat Getting glass for pictures etc.—putting pictures in frames.; ; ; ; ; ; Sun.P.M. putting early W.C.’s on mats & sealing frames—H&M.