Diary of Marie Bashkirtseff
CZENUKFR

Monday, 29 May 1882

So yesterday we went to the Bois with Adeline, who says that we are now launched in the most aristocratic society in Paris. And today we pay calls to the Queen, to the two Duchesses of Fitz-James, to Mme de Turenne and the Comtesse de Brye, and finally to Mme Cartwright.
I saw Julian in the morning — he thinks the large pastel of Dina is very good.
But it is a matter of a large picture for next year... Only, the idea does not grip Julian — a man-about-town who has no interest in that sort of thing.
I am very gripped by it, but I dare not say so — for it is only permitted to those who have talent to be gripped by something, to work themselves into a passion over a subject. Coming from me it would be pretentious and ridiculous.
I had thought of an episode from the Carnival... and I abandon it. It would be nothing but a display of colour... What I want to do I feel profoundly; I am seized heart and mind and it has been for months now, nearly two years... I do not know whether I shall be strong enough this winter to do it justice... Well, so be it — it will be a mediocre piece of painting, but it will have all the other qualities: truth, emotion, feeling. One cannot do something badly when it fills one's soul, especially when one draws well... In short, it is the moment when Joseph of Arimathea has buried the body of Jesus and the stone has been rolled before the sepulchre; everyone has gone, night is falling, and Mary Magdalene and the other Mary remain seated alone before the tomb.
It is one of the most beautiful and least exploited moments of the sublime drama. There is a grandeur in it, a simplicity; something terrible, touching, and human — I do not know what immense calm; the exhaustion of grief in two poor women... There remains the material side to be studied...