The weather’s changeable, often windy and cloudy skies — but the almond trees are starting to blossom everywhere.
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I’ve had a week of concentrated hard work in the wheatfields right out in the sun, the result was some studies of wheatfields, landscapes and a sketch of a sower. In a ploughed field, a large field of clods of purple earth rising towards the horizon a sower in blue and white. On the horizon a field of short, ripe wheat. Above all that a yellow sky with a yellow sun. You can sense from the mere nomenclature of the tonalities that color plays a very important role in this composition.
And when I sit down to write I am so abstracted by recollections of what I have seen that I leave the letter. For instance at the present occasion I was writing to you and going to say something about Arles as it is–and as it was in the old days of Boccaccio. Well, instead of continuing the letter I began to draw on the very paper the head of a dirty little girl I saw this afternoon whilst I was painting a view of the river with a greenish yellow sky.