Diary of Marie Bashkirtseff
CZENUKFR

Thursday, 16 May 1878

I took a large shawl from Maman, cut a slit for the head, and sewed up the sides leaving openings for the hands. This makes the simplest and most beautiful garment in the world — it has but one fault: it is not white — and even that is not truly a fault. This shawl, falling in classical folds, gives one an oriental, biblical, strange air.
And it is my dear family who witness all this — who listen to me play, sing, improvise, swear, joke... Horror and profanation!
The sounds of the guitar mingle with words in Cassagnac's manner; the sensitive, touching song fades to make way for a reflection as Voltairean as it is useless.
In short... at dinner an idea came to me. Extraordinary, phenomenal, preposterous things happen in this world. Still stranger things have happened — why should it not come to pass that Dina and I marry Popaul and Gambetta? I would die of amusement. As for which of us would take Popaul and which Gambetta, I would say that need not concern us... Am I not sufficiently immoral!
You know that Schaeppi is not pleased. She thought no doubt that since I am rich I ought to give her 500 francs.
While I was preparing to paint my skull, having — in keeping with my character — already drummed this plan about beforehand, Breslau painted [Crossed out: already] one this week. That teaches me to be less talkative. [Words blotted: This made me say in conversation with others that truly] my ideas must be worth something, since there are imbeciles who pick up even the worst and most discarded of them.