May 26, 2015
31st entry, Brienzwiler
I really don‘t know if I have the strength to make a living by being an artist until the age of 65. If I think about it, I get really scared. It is a constant balancing act. It won’t take much and my art will be a thing of the past – which I would deeply regret.
When I look outside I see nothing but rain. This has been going on for days on end now. It is gloomy and cold outside. It seems as if nature would be mirroring my present state of mind. I would be lost if I wouldn’t be certain that sunny days will be ahead. Without hope I would welcome death.