Monday, 30 January 1882

What I said Saturday refers to the ball that the Queen presided over at the Hôtel Continental for the benefit of the Breton lifesavers. I had the idea of going at the last moment; we were not patronesses and consequently not admitted to the reserved salon. I left after a quarter of an hour. [Words blacked out: Géry] and Gavini had spent the evening with us — Melissano, Caracciolo and Alexis too. It is decided: we shall go to the Géry villa in Nice.

As for Saturday, it was a good day: Bastien, whom I had seen at the ball the previous evening, came and stayed more than an hour. I showed him some things of mine and he gave advice with a flattering severity. Besides, he said I am marvellously gifted; it did not have the air of flattery, and so I had a moment of joy so violent I was on the point of seizing the little fellow by the head and kissing him. [Words blacked out: It is already] a great comfort to have heard him; he gave the same advice as Tony and Julian, said the same things — and is he not a pupil of M. Cabanel, and is Breslau not a pupil of Tony? Each has their own temperament, but as for the grammar of Art, one will always have to seek it among those called the classics.

Neither Bastien nor anyone else can teach their own qualities; one learns only what can be learned — the rest depends on oneself. Mme de Peyronney arrived, and I spent a good quarter-hour between this superior woman and this great artist, before my fireplace and then beneath the palm tree, swelling with vanity and pleasure. I shall not trouble myself with the other visitors left in the formal drawing room.

We left at eight in the evening — Paul, Nini, Dina, myself, Rosalie, Basile and Coco. The villa is everything one could wish — deep in the countryside, barely ten minutes from the Promenade des Anglais; a terrace, gardens, a large comfortable house. We find everything prepared and M. Pécoule the manager there to meet us with bouquets. [Words blacked out: Getting the house in order] is pure amusement — the tram passes in front, that is, in front of our large garden surrounding the villa; in short, I could not have chosen anything better for working. I do not see the Nice that is odious to me. The population is all affability — they see so many foreigners who keep them alive and must be pleased. This evening I took a tram ride that enchanted me. It is French gaiety mixed with Italy, and without the low-life quality of Paris. As I write to Julian: it is as convenient as Paris and as picturesque as Granada. Five minutes from the Promenade des Anglais one finds costumes, rags, characters — and all of it in a tone! Why go to Spain! Oh Nice, oh Mediterranean, oh my beloved country that has made me suffer so much. Oh my first joys and my greatest sorrows, oh my childhood, my ambitions, my charms — the Tower, the Surprenant castle. And Saetone, Fiouloulou, Danis. Do what I will, it will always be here, the beginning of everything. And beside the sufferings that darkened my sixteenth year there will always be the memories of earliest youth — like the most beautiful flowers of life. I am mad to be here. It is the country one loves in spite of Italy, in spite of Rome, in spite of Spain. I grew up here — it is almost my homeland; and if I clung to Paris all those years, striving to make a place for myself there, these years spent in Nice will always draw me back. It is magnificent, besides! I remember my secret disappointment on seeing Naples — that was because Nice is so admirable that one is prepared for everything.

And then my family is not here — no one quarrels; we are in the countryside; everyone is cheerful. I do not see my doctor and I am going to work. I brought an adjustable easel and some things for outdoor painting. We shall not appear in society for I shall only do so when I can put Tutcheff in her place. And I came to work — I need to see the Carnival for my painting, a picture that haunts my mind and that I intend to do for the next Salon.