I Have Once More Taken Up Things

If Only The Weather Would Improve, There'd Be Hope Of Some Work, But Every Day Brings Rain.

I Sometimes Feel Ashamed That I Am Devoting Myself To Artistic Pursuits While So Many Of Our People Are Suffering And Dying For Us. It's True That Fretting Never Did Any Good.

The Older I Become The More I Realize Of That I Have To Work Very Hard To Reproduce What I Search: The Instantaneous. The Influence Of The Atmosphere On The Things And The Light Scattered Throughout.

You'll Understand, I'm Sure That I'm Chasing The Merest Sliver Of Color. It's My Own Fault. I Want To Grasp The Intangible. It's Terrible How The Light Runs Out. Color, Any Color, Lasts A Second, Sometimes 3 Or 4 Minutes At Most.

As For Myself, I Met With As Much Success As I Ever Could Have Wanted. In Other Words, I Was Enthusiastically Run-down By Every Critic Of The Period.