john f. marok  48" x 42"  oil/canvas

i have days in the studio when i am full of indecision, unable to punctuate anything, can't see the trees for the forest, the honey for the bunny, the rain in spain, the moon or the loon. if you were watching me from my studio window you would see something like this:  an artist painting a canvas sky blue, then grey, then covering it up with white,  wiping off the white,  making it blue again, then grey and again, over and over, again and again.  if this activity was viewed by a psychiatrist, the psychiatrist would suggest that the artist is suffering from some kind of  obsessive compulsive complex- condition. yet,  this process does have some meaningful merit, some payoff, yields a mysterious discovery, an unforeseen and desired result that can only be achieved by going through this irrational convoluted meandering serpentine labyrinth of a path.

this is a quote by oscar wilde:

i was working on the proof of one of my poems all the morning, and took out a comma. 
in the afternoon i put the comma back again.


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