Saturday, 31 December 1881

All day long everyone is quarrelling. Mme Gavini sends me a very pretty card tray and a fan for Dina. Villevieille comes and finds me furious with a heap of people and things.
At last, to calm myself, I go to Tony’s and show him the sketch of Paul’s wife’s portrait. “He found it very original” very original, very original in its arrangement and well begun. The very agreeable Tony was enchanted to see me in good health, and after some cheerful conversation we broached the very grave subject of Art, and Breslau among other things. Her canvas is very fine, certainly, he says; she is very gifted; she showed him charming drawings full of feeling and emotion. “She certainly has the sacred fire and an iron will. And the sense” of construction — to such a remarkable degree... Ah! this paper cannot do justice to me! All the fire, all the fever...
Oh! To work night and day... always, always and to produce something good!! I know he says that the day I choose to I shall do as much as she; I know he has credited me with the same qualities — but I am ready to cry, ready to “die”, to go away anywhere I can... Shall I be able to!! Ah! Tony has confidence in me, but I have no confidence... I am consumed with the desire to do well, and I feel my powerlessness... I stop there — since I am taken at my word, someone might actually believe it... I say it in the hope of being contradicted...
Ah! Lord, I am writing all this to you and squandering my time hunting for literature to express my woes, while Breslau, less foolish, draws and works.
Tony has grown quite young again since he took it into his head to organise the society of free artists; he has written a much-applauded report and “researched” on all the societies that have ever existed, and he is afraid to attach his name to this business... His eyes are bright with it. That is what it means to...
Ah! If I were to paint a good picture, I too would be reborn.