Monday, 27 May 1878

I arrive at the atelier before seven o’clock and go to have breakfast for three sous at a dairy shop with the Swedish girls. I saw the workmen, the boys in smocks, come to take their poor chocolate — the same as I had.
And then, as it was not yet time, we walked about in the arcade while the male students also walked there, waiting for the door to open.
— To begin painting with still lifes, for you, Mademoiselle, is like ordering a robust man to take exercise by doing this — (and Julian began lifting and lowering his pen-holder) — do not do figures yet, agreed; but paint feet, portions of the model — there is nothing better.
He is perfectly right — and so I shall paint a foot.
I had lunch at the atelier — things were brought from home — for I calculated that by going home to lunch every day I was losing one hour daily, which makes six hours a week, consequently one day per week — four days per month — forty-eight days per year. Home is so disagreeable.
As for evenings... I want to do sculpture; I have spoken of it to Julian, who will speak of it — or have it spoken of — to Dubois, in a way to interest him.
At the Exhibition my family ran into Miss Foster, married three months ago to M. Lacon — future Lord Lacon, I believe. Berthe and her husband and Arthur Foster (the one with the dog) came here at six o’clock, and I think we shall often be together during the ten days they will spend here.
When I do sculpture I think I shall be quite calm — there will no longer be time to torment one’s mind with politics... incidentally, do you know that I am fully up to date with all this infernal politics, and to think that it serves no purpose!
I had given myself four years; seven months have passed. I believe three years will suffice — so I have two years and five months remaining. I shall be twenty-one to twenty-two then.
Julian says that in a year I shall paint very well; that may be, but not well enough.
— This work is not natural, he said, laughing. You are abandoning society, walks, everything! There must be a goal, a hidden thought...
He is not a Southerner for nothing.
Today more or less the same situation arose as in my falling-out with the Swiss girl, only this time I was Breslau and an old lady was me.
— Madame, I said to her aloud, I am within my rights, and I could keep this seat were it my habit to pick quarrels with honest people. Take this seat, Madame — by the rules of courtesy it is yours. I am, thank God, well-bred, and have nothing in common with certain — forgive the expression — animals who do not know how to behave.
And as the poor old lady did not wish to accept, I added:
— Do take it, Madame — I give it to you as much for your sake as for my own glory. I perform this fine deed, Madame, because I respect myself.
That is what I call revenge — though half in jest.

Notes

In French in the original: crémerie (a small dairy shop serving simple meals). ↩