I Had So Much Fire In Me

I Am Enslaved To My Work, Always Wanting The Impossible, And Never, I Believe, Have I Been Less Favoured By The Endlessly Changeable Weather.

I Do Have A Dream, A Tableau Of The Bathing Place Of La Grenouillère, For Which I've Done Some Bad Pochades (sketches), But It Is A Dream. Renoir, Who Have Just Spent A Couple Of Months Here, Also Wants To Paint This Subject.

Pictures Aren't Made Out Of Doctrines. Since The Appearance Of Impressionism, The Official Salons, Which Used To Be Brown, Have Become Blue, Green, And Red...but Peppermint Or Chocolate, They Are Still Confections.

I Haven't Yet Managed To Capture The Colour Of This Landscape; There Are Moments When I'm Appalled At The Colours I'm Having To Use, I'm Afraid What I'm Doing Is Just Dreadful And Yet I Really Am Understating It; The Light Is Simply Terrifying.

I Am Following Nature Without Being Able To Grasp Her, I Perhaps Owe Having Become A Painter To Flowers.