Thursday, 21 October 1880

I showed Julian the painting I made at Mont-Dore. He naturally treated me roughly, while saying that certain modern artists would find it very good, that it is a mixture of Bastien-Lepage and Bouvin, that "so much" more work and it would make an almost good painting, that there are amusing things in it, that despite everything it is an amusing painting — but that I paint "like an executioner."
On the sketch of the young woman nursing her child, he only said that a mother does not nurse with her torso completely bare.
I had composed it in a calm tone: the woman is seated in a low armchair of yellow plush, her legs extended, her feet bare, one foot on a stool; the head is in profile, the bust three-quarters. The child suckles while fondling the breast with its little hand. The background is formed by the curtains of the bed, and farther off in the shadow one sees a palm in a Chinese blue vase. It is very calm, but one should cover at least one shoulder.
As for the sketch of the model facing the skeleton — that, that touched his heart. He said it is "absolutely right," that it is raw. "It is disgusting," I added.
"Yes, disgusting, and it is precisely for that reason that it is right — it is natural."
"Only you cannot sign that. It would cause a scandal. But by Jove, how right it is!"
I told him it would be titled: Waiting for the Artist, and he said that this title would remove much of "the indecency," that without this title it would be a naughty piece.
[Mocker written across]
And he likes it very much, and laughing, he makes me swear that I would tell no one that he advises me to make this naughty piece life-size for the Salon.
"I do not say you will become a celebrated painter, but certainly you will be celebrated for this witty invention... It is a painting that will cause an outcry, especially if they know it is by a woman, a young lady!"
But when I too make a painting, people cover their faces.