Wednesday, 21 June 1882

Everything is scraped off and I have even given away the canvas so as not to see it... It kills one. O painting. I cannot manage it. But the moment one has destroyed what one has done, one feels relieved, free, and ready to begin again.
The studio where I work has been lent to Mlle Lönnstadt by an American named Chadwick, who came today, and we give him back his time — Chadwick, Simmons, another painter, and the two of us with our cigarettes. If anyone could see us... But there is talk of a townhouse with a studio; we are up in the air, and this moving business is maddening.