Day 0444

Breaking the habit of a lifetime, I have been consistently getting up early of my own volition. Was painting by 8am. It has become unavoidably evident that I am at the limits of my powers with it. Each day I start out afresh thinking I will correct the errors of before and bring it to a new level; invariably all that happens is that I change but do not improve it. Going around in circles.

Listened to more Monte Cristo, and some radio programmes about Alexander the Great.

Visited the market, the supermarket and the English bookshop. Bought another Turgenev. Blossom and spring colour in the squares.

I very much like to indulge myself by identifying with Turgenev's egoists, and in turn with him.

However he begun a conversation, he usually finished it by talking about himself, and did so somehow in a pleasant, mild, heartfelt way, as if he were doing so involuntarily.

"He understands everything and can do almost anything himself." "Yes, anything second-rate, lightweight, rushed. People like that, and they like him, and he's pleased with that." Ivan Turgenev, A Nest of the Gentry