Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, Vol. 60, November 18, 1961

     Cold – a heavy frost – sunshine and clouds – beautiful clouds, cumulus in character, large and simple, but arranged in the long horizontal bars typical of November. When the sun shown forth from a wide “slit” between the clouds, it was like a long bar of molten silver, so brilliant and blinding as the sun itself –
     In studio all day working on the large “November” (Sometimes I consider “South in November” or “November Brooding as alternative titles -) bringing it to a tentative conclusion –
     When I brought it in the house at late afternoon and set it up on the davenport, several “trouble spots” immediately became apparent, but nothing that cannot be easily remedied –
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     Last night neither of us could sleep – I had gotten to bed by midnight — in the south, exactly in the center Sirius shown brilliantly, with Sirius to the left glittering with blue and white flashes – the moon was too high up to be seen – But for some reason sleep refused to come – presently I heard Bertha getting up – restless too, so we both went downstairs – She said to put on some wild exciting music – So I got out “Ma Vlast” of Smetana – I played it more or less backward, starting out with “Blanik” then the “High Castle,” and the “Moldlau”, followed by “Sarka” and Bohemian Forests and [Mountains]” – wonderful and exciting music – (I left “Tabor” for another time) – Bertha heated some milk and about 4:00 AM we went back to bed — and to sleep.
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     Late afternoon lay down, went to sleep and had a strange dream – In an unfamiliar town – I stopped in at a lunch room; before I could order anything, the man behind the counter pretended to be insulted by something I had said or done; we argued about it a few moments then I went out — (it was night) – quite accidentally I discovered that something had been pinned to the back of my coat (and that the purpose of the argument had been to divert my attention while it was being done) – I figured it was some idiotic words like “kick me” – so I sought out a secluded spot to remove the card – (it never occurred to me to remove my coat) – there were countless pins to remove, and while I was struggling with them, I awoke exhausted and nervous. But I was soon revived by the delirious odor of onions being sautéed in butter, which told me I was having Bertha’s incomparable potato soup for supper.
     At bedtime played Sibelius String Quartet and the Incidental music for the "Tempest” while I studied my picture.
Charles E. Burchfield, November 18, 1961