10.30 P.M. “Came over poorly” I believe is the old British expression. Was brushing my teeth and suddenly felt weird, a little faint. Hope I am not sickening for something. We are on a working roll and I am worn out. Must be brief. What to me seemed like a very old man came this afternoon and I did what I felt was a pretty good drawing of the old codger. Discovered later that he was not more than five years older than me. Shows how brutal life can be. He was so funny, making faces and cracking up every now and then. But after I had done the drawing, Vova asked him some questions about the war and he became weepy telling us that his father and three uncles had been killed in WWII. The young in the U.S. who were barely touched by this, can only begin to comprehend while the young here just shrug it off as common because they were almost all touched by it, as Vova did just that when I asked for the translation. “The usual”, he said with that shrug. They seem so amused by my anguish.

Later this afternoon was another event related because J came up with the idea of a painting of buddies in full uniform together. We had the most remarkable experience, first packing ourselves on to a bus in rush hour and then waiting in the park in front of the Academy when the sweet and remarkable Cadet Alex came marching up with ten cadets and two young officers (he used to be their superior), literally marching that is, shoulders back, chins high. They remained formally at attention until the very end while I made selections for three of them to come to the studio to pose for a group painting which I think may work well… but when will it end. Almost all the kids were so tough and tender I could not help being moved and to my embarrassment became a little weepy as I thanked them stressing my feeling of humanness needing to transcend nationhood. Sentimental old fool.