Wednesday, 1 June 1881

Mme Gorpintchenko has arrived. Michel has left again.
The weather is fine, the lilacs in bloom, spring adorable — but too cool for my wretched body.
I brought no canvases — there are none of the kind I want. The peasants — monsters! Spent the day making a dress for Nini, Paul's wife. My father brought some fashionable satin and with the help of three women I am a seamstress. You perhaps think I am joking? I work with my hands — and very well too.
I would have wished Julian could see me wrapping paint tubes in hundred-rouble notes — which I did this evening... Oh — the arts, Bohemia, it is ineffable.

Notes

"The peasants — monsters!": Marie's exclamation of frustration that she cannot find the canvases she needs, immediately before describing how she spent the day sewing for Paul's wife — an incongruity she relishes.