the maestro

john f. marok.  working late. 30" x 40"  oil/canvas

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the maestro's condition of irritable vexation had dissolved, was replaced and relieved by a feeling of sensorical expansiveness. it had hit him in the head. outta the blue. full disclosure. revelation. prior to having his cranium cracked by sweet baboo he had been unable to decide on the structure of the singing, couldn't decide between recitative, plot driven lyrical passages that showcased inflections of speech or more unstructured melodies that emphasized the character's emotions. after getting clunked on the head the maestro simply let go, unleashed, gave birth to what had been lurking below the surface of his consciousness, what he sensed but was unable to articulate, what was seeking life, growth, expansiveness.  right then and there, in the wake of getting his cerebral cortex startled, stirred, stimulated by the falling baboo, maestro had finally picked the lock on the handcuffs of traditional rules that had been forestalling his creative tributaries, that had been thwarting his inventive imagination, that had been shadowing his true self and he just...let... it... ripipipipip.

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