Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967), Volume 39, Page 2, September 1,1933 - November 17,1933; handmade cardboard notebook, 9 5/8 x 11 1/2 inches; Gift of Charles E. Burchfield, 1966
2. Sept. 1, 1933 –
It is still possible to sit down in a meadow, with flowers and grasses all around, and feel the surge of heat waves; to feel the new [winds?] and to know that the world is as young as ever.
Sept. 2, 1933 –
The moon is in the full, and it has the feeling of August – a dark mystery, and of chalky light from the southeast – oppressive thoughts, and regrets pour in on me.
Sept. 5, 1933 –
A soft delightful morning, with a strangely beautiful golden sunshine out of a misty sky. The golden quality of the light has the characteristic of sunlight on a [thaw?] day in late February. The liquid chatter of starlings comes from the thinning trees – the earth is mellow –
Nov. 17, 1933 –
The other night I lay awake, tortured by a multitude of thoughts; outside the sky was blanketed with soft strangely luminous clouds, in which now and then appeared ragged holes thru which glowed the deep indigo sky – black star-studded caves that moved majestically toward the south. In one I saw two