Colors Pursue Me Like A Constant Worry.

I Can No Longer Work Outside Because Of The Intensity Of The Light.

For Almost Two Months Now I've Been Struggling Away With No Result.

The Creditors Are Proving Impossible To Deal With And Short Of A Sudden Appearance On The Scene Of Wealthy Art Patrons, We Are Going To Be Turned Out Of This Dear Little House Where I Led A Simple Life And Was Able To Work So Well. I Do Not Know What Will Become Of Us.

My Garden Is A Slow Work, Pursued With Love And I Do Not Deny That I Am Proud Of It. Forty Years Ago, When I Established Myself Here, There Was Nothing But A Farmhouse And A Poor Orchard...i Bought The House And Little By Little I Enlarged And Organized It...i Dug, Planted Weeded, Myself; In The Evenings The Children Watered.

I Have Once More Taken Up Things That Can't Be Done: Water With Grasses Weaving On The Bottom. But I'm Always Tackling That Sort Of Thing!