Tuesday, 22 August 1882

I go to the Marché du Temple with Rosalie. My eyes are still wide from it. It is a marvellous quarter; I bought a few old oddments for the studio, but in truth I only looked at the types. Oh, the street!! If only one could render what one sees!!! Alas, I have the faculty of seeing, and I am still dazzled by all I saw. The attitudes, the gestures, life caught in the act, true, living nature. Oh — to surprise nature and know how to render it.
That is the great problem. Oh! why have I not...
That beast Tony put it well: "With your aspirations, mademoiselle, I would do anything in the world to make myself master of the craft."
And so I come home and make several sketches of things glimpsed: a bench in the street with several little girls chatting and playing together. That cluster of children's faces is charming.
Then a café table with two men, whose attitudes — so characteristic — are there, engraved in the mind and sketched on canvas, the proprietress leaning in the half-shadow of the doorway.
And then at the Temple, a very fair-haired girl laughing as she leans against her stall — a stall selling funeral wreaths. This last I can do in the studio... but the other two demand open air... I do not know why I am telling you all this. From tomorrow, it is a fever!
I am happy and gay during the walk in the Bois with Adeline.
In short, these things one chances upon — they are like windows opened onto people's lives; one imagines, one divines their life, their character, their days... It is admirable, it is of an intense, palpitating interest!
But!... The imbeciles believe that to be modern or realist it is enough to paint the first thing that comes along without composing it. Do not compose it — but choose and surprise, there is the whole of it.