Charles E. Burchfield in his own words
Friday, February 1, 2013
I would like my grave to be planted with hepaticas, and be on some low hillside facing south so that as the sun's rays each March came out of the steaming south, the hepaticas on my grave would be the first to bloom.
Thursday, January 31, 2013
Examinations to-morrow and I am exempt in everything! So were Bill and Bud - I guess we were the only three in the class.
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
The Brook was fairylike, - the black ice dotted with white bunches of fernilke frost. Here and there the water gave forth solitary warbles, like a blackbird’s liquid call.
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
All things are possible now. I felt like throwing a gauntlet into the face of the whole world; let me, like a winter wind sweep all of the debris of the centuries away, I – alone – unaided!
Monday, January 28, 2013
For some reason while I was walking along yesterday I thought of a painting I started in 1917 of two hollows - one representing spring & life and [the] other winter and death -
Sunday, January 27, 2013
Thinking of an artist who yearns to compose wonderful music, yet what he sees with his eyes is the overwhelming instinct –
Saturday, January 26, 2013
So I told the remark Du Bois [erased and covered with ???] once made about my work ‘Burchfield is only Hopper on a rainy day’ –
Friday, January 25, 2013
There have been many explanations of dreams, most of them futile; my own has been simply that previous experiences or thoughts, uncontrolled by the conscious mind, run riot in sleep...
Thursday, January 24, 2013
As I was shaving -- in the bathroom, after school I happened to look out of the window. The sun was just falling into a yellow and orange mist - not a red or yellow disc but a fiery ball of gold.
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
When I went out to the studio to check on the furnace (which yesterday had failed to operate, the temperature in the studio being 34) – it was into a fantastically beautiful world . . .