Wandering from picture to picture, soft classical music piped into the museum's dimly lighted room. John Marin rocks, his paintings an electric staccato caught in time, transmitting images that the brain is a painstaking historian, as well as an ardent correspondent, carefully documenting a record which suggests the connection with the meteorite or cube-shaped stone worshipped as the goddess in Anatolia. This image relates also to the cube-shaped black stone at Petra and to the other meteorite stone of the Ka'aba at Mecca, which was worshipped as an image of our social successes and failures in the language of a corn dance with the same chemistry that spread raindeer over the walls of Paleolithic caves. Half a century before I was born in Brooklyn, Marin lived there. Later he would paint his first watercolors where I would spend my incunabula summers.\ Ten years before I was born, he visited Taos (I would live nine months there), returning to New York, or at least next door. More than the desert, we both belong to the north and the sea. Where does the picture end and the paper begin? We have learned to draw from, the emptiness of its field. This was Marin's technique: Let the paint seek its own imagination.

A mountain floats on a nimbus of clouds. Lightning jolts across the Goddess's face, flashing back on her son's regressive terror.

Then I asked myself: Why do we come to see another person's art? To gloat that we basically have the same brain as the artist, except you taste something on your tongue. Do your taste buds signal something so palatable that it could fuel appetitive drives? Or is it distasteful? The amygdala is one other part of that higher circuitry which 'decides'...

i come to a junction of two roads.  i know the one to take and take it, even though the one next to it is marked in yellow, as if to say:  This is the right way."  i climb to the top of the hill, where both roads join again at the edge of a dark wood.

...if a stimulus event  will become either rewarding or adverse. Amygdala cells soon learn to respond differently, and their relay circuits are already hard-wired at birth for the talent. Yet, if talent is just a sequence chemical events conspiring to release an inspired mark, why are Marin's painting hanging here, and not those of the viewer?It's not just talent, but art is a style of being.

In an adjacent room, a famous abstract painter is working, The owner of the house standing next to him and i hope that sometime i'll get to meet the artist. By the entrance to his studio stand two knights in armor, sculptures i realize i had made. i hope the artist will see them. But then i realize they are classical works, and embarrassing. Why did i do them?