Charles E. Burchfield in his own words
Sunday, October 4, 2020
In the front yard, the white picket fence with the red, yellow, and white chrysanthemums, and the rich red orange maple tree in Cottrell’s yard, with our maple above and in front still a rich green.
Saturday, October 3, 2020
P.M. Downtown. Woman’s suffrage day. Big parade. A fine sight. In a short time, what has actually existed for a long time (equality) will be admitted by men and granted.
Friday, October 2, 2020
One of the objections to the Biblical explanation of God and the universe, is that it quiets curiosity. If you know the character of God, as you are supposed to thru revelations...
Thursday, October 1, 2020
As I sat and beheld the marvelous beauty of the earth, it seemed as tho I should not lose a single moment doing other than just filling the eye—absorbing—absorbing—
Wednesday, September 30, 2020
A cold, cloudless day—strong S. W. wind—a glorious day. Working on frames.
Tuesday, September 29, 2020
A lowering sky – a flock of gulls hovering over the town - working on frames – raw & cold...
Monday, September 28, 2020
"...sounding like grease spattering in a thousand skillets...thinned poplar trees..."
Sunday, September 27, 2020
...The writer referred to me as “one of the fine old men of American Art”! In commenting on that Miss Hofeld said, “you are too much aware of life to be called old.”
Saturday, September 26, 2020
My diary seems to be a journal of the wind, sunshine and sky.
Friday, September 25, 2020
Home from Pittsburg – Early P.M. – frames from town. Then go to bed to sleep...