Charles E. Burchfield in his own words
Monday, August 26, 2013
The hot white drought wind comes out of the brassy southwest sky, scorching the earth with its breath, like a blast of air from a coke-oven.
Sunday, August 25, 2013
Fields brisk with life from the recent rains. The millions of Queen Anne’s Lace seemed to us incredible of especial beauty were second crops of pink clover (which is not really pink but R.V. lavendar)
Saturday, August 24, 2013
Two monarch butterflies apparently have made our backyard their home. What beautiful (miraculous really) creatures they are!
Friday, August 23, 2013
The immortality of the soul exists in the deeds that live after the man has turned to dust.
Thursday, August 22, 2013
As I sit in arbor writing an amateur violinist commences to play. At first I hear only its squeaking wiry sound and it jars. Then he commences to play “Over the waves Waltz”
Wednesday, August 21, 2013
The church bells sound tonight as they did in childhood.
Tuesday, August 20, 2013
Strange how Summer and Fall should meet all at once. Last night was deep August – stagnant, heavy, a huge thunderstorm booming to the North.
Monday, August 19, 2013
All day on Sphinx & Milky Way — In the morning it went slow, but by afternoon, ideas began to flow, & I succeeded in painting in the moth, the nicotiana, & other minor parts. The work went well.
Sunday, August 18, 2013
End of the day music – last two movements of Ma Vlast and then the High Castle again –
Saturday, August 17, 2013
I find that my mind is more impressionable when I am divested of all my clothing. The same is true when we are alone in the fields.