Ochre Sky and Diaries

I am not sure I remember which grandchild painted this 

during our wonderful painting marathon 

a couple of years ago. I have titled this one OCHRE SKY. 

It is really, in its power and varied bold freedom,

better than a Rothko. . . .

I have just gotten a wonderful British book which I hadn't known about before:

The Assassin's Cloak; an anthology of the world's greatest diarists; 

edited by Irene and Alan Taylor, Canongate Books, Great Britain, 2000.
(U.S. edition also available.)

Here are just a few of the diarists: Kafka, Virginia Woolf, Camus, Anne Frank, Andy Warhol, Che Guevara, Count Ciano, Anais Nin, Count Ciano . . . . .

And the genius arrangement is this: Beginning with January 1st, and continuing throughout the year, short passages from a few diarists are selected for each day. Each month begins with a short epigraph from a famous diarist.  Here is the one for MAY:

"Why has my motley diary no jokes? Because it is

a soliloquy and every man is grave alone.

RALPH WALDO EMERSON

I decided to read each day's entries (usually, about two pages) on the day. I started yesterday. Today and tomorrow I will give one entry from that day. Later, it depends on what I find.
Here is:

1 May

1945

One feels Hitler's death is just rather pointless now. He should have died some time ago. I wonder how many people comfort themselves with thinking he's frizzling. The Italian news is grand, I wonder if they'll go on over the Brenner. I know this part of Austria, where the fighting is, pretty well, the Voralberg Pass, the Innthal, all so magic and lovely. I wonder what's happening in Denmark.

                                               Naomi Mitchison

Again, I plan to keep a diary, a project already doomed to failure, but a grand one, nevertheless. Do you keep a diary????  Why not?