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Had some trouble with the sunset with figures and a bridge that I was talking to Bernard about. As the bad weather prevented me from working on the spot, I completely worked this study to death trying to finish it at home.  
The weather today has been magnificent with no wind, and I wanted so much to work that I’m astonished by it, as I hadn’t expected it any more.
The weather’s still fine here, and if it was always like that it would be better than the painters’ paradise, it would be Japan altogether.
I plan to do a lot more drawing. It’s already jolly hot, I can assure you.
Had some trouble with the sunset with figures and a bridge that I was talking to Bernard about. As the bad weather prevented me from working on the spot, I completely worked this study to death trying to finish it at home. However, I started the same subject again immediately afterwards on another canvas, but as the weather was quite different, in a grey palette and without figures.
I’ve had a line from Gauguin, who complains about the bad weather, is still unwell and says nothing vexes him more than lack of money among the variety of human ills, and yet he feels doomed to be broke for ever.
The weather’s changeable, often windy and cloudy skies — but the almond trees are starting to blossom everywhere.
Now at long last, this morning the weather has changed and has turned milder — and I’ve already had an opportunity to find out what this mistral’s like too. I’ve been out on several hikes round about here, but that wind always made it impossible to do anything. The sky was a hard blue with a great bright sun that melted just about all the snow — but the wind was so cold and dry it gave you goose-pimples. But even so I’ve seen lots of beautiful things — a ruined abbey on a hill planted with hollies, pines and grey olive trees. We’ll get down to that soon, I hope.
Naturally it’s winter here too, although the weather still continues to be very fine from time to time. But I don’t find it disagreeable to try to work from the imagination, since that permits me not to go out. Working in the heat of a stove doesn’t bother me, but the cold isn’t for me.
There’s a hard frost here, and out in the country there’s still snow—I have a study of a whitened landscape with the town in the background. And then 2 little studies of a branch of an almond tree that’s already in flower despite everything.
Here we have days of sunshine and wind, I walk a lot to take the air. Up to now I’ve been sleeping and eating at the hospital. Yesterday and today I began to work.
What wouldn’t I have given for you to see Arles in fine weather, now you have seen it when it’s dark.
Our days pass in working, working always, in the evening we’re worn out and go to the café before retiring to bed early. That’s our existence. Naturally it’s winter here too, although the weather still continues to be very fine from time to time. But I don’t find it disagreeable to try to work from the imagination, since that permits me not to go out. Working in the heat of a stove doesn’t bother me, but the cold isn’t for me, as you know.
The weather’s windy and rainy here, and I’m very happy not to be alone, I work from memory on bad days, and that wouldn’t work if I were alone.
We have the full pitiless mistral here at the moment — it’s very bad for work. But after all, we’ll have more fine weather before the winter, properly speaking, and in any case I hope to add more to the series that I have on the go.