P.M.

Article on “Contemporary Portraits” has again sent me on the track of “live for expression only”. It matters not what others think or do, what they are or who they are. This world is the little red school-house, each one here for its particular lesson, its particular experience. All that is necessary is to bloom—whether in well-kept garden, by windy roadside, in depth of lofty forest, on arid desert plain, or alone on mountain peak. What is it Whitman says: I give to men of my store. If they accept, well and good. If they reject, it is equally good. I pass along rejoicing.

Should I feel sad though all reject my food? They may have just as good—or better. And though it were worse, still what odds?

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This leaves one free from striving, free from ambition, free from “yearning to serve”, itself an albatross. One energetically blooms, pouring out one’s soul for the joy of pouring.

Am seeing beauty in Cefalu!