“I found some relaxation by painting nudes,” wrote Führer’s hand in the diary without a period or comma. “Will work with drawing pad and pen as often as time permits.”
In July 1935, affairs of state seemed to be very demanding for Adolf Hitler once again. To compensate, he doesn’t engage in trivial pastimes – a guide doesn’t play golf! – but the most demanding, most beautiful genre of art: the naked muse. At least that’s what the diary leader writes.
If Eva knew that, the reader thinks and learns in the very next paragraph that the erotic graffiti in Hitler’s house actually caused trouble. It says sheepishly: “I had a little argument with E.”
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