August 31, 2019

Adequate painting in the morning. I was sad, and the painting made me sad. Looked in the photo albums from the old Urthona Galleries, and saw a hundred of my paintings, exuberant, joyful, exploratory. Where have they gone? As far as I know, all lost. Some were sold, but how can I know if even they are still extant? I destroyed most of them in despair that no one seemed to get them, no one seemed to like them. I did. I miss them. I wonder why I let myself be led away from them.

Also the day my fury at the Administration turned from fury into sadness. I realize that I am defeated. Being fully right and yet fully defeated is a lesson I am given over and over because I never quite learn it. I think that if I had just persevered a little longer, been a little more unanswerable in my reasoning. None of that matters, sometimes. I must learn that none of that matters, sometimes. Sadness is better than fury, for it allows thought of other things. I painted, weeded, then took out Diving into the Moon and started a revision.