Thursday, 27 April 1882

Well, I went to the ball the day before yesterday and saw almost everyone I know...
Julian paid me great compliments on Dina's pastel — but what a savage critique of this week's painting!
So... I am, I do not know how, without the strength to despair; past a certain degree one no longer feels the blows. We are going to look at apartments and studios.
When I am in despair my arms burn and I feel empty, as if my body no longer weighed anything...
So it is finished then... I cannot paint; I have no gift for painting. I draw, I compose, I pose, I arrange — but painting...
It is also two years now that I have been talking of trying sculpture... I begin on Monday, without fail. There were moments when it seemed I was getting somewhere — but I am discouraged; it is finished.
Besides, I love only form — I must sculpt... And even so... I have lost all my qualities of energy and character; I am done for. And what is to become of me?