Essays need titles. But this discussion is more about fashion, criticism, and personal preference than about a painter who was unique, very good at what he tried to do, successful commercially, and still admired .

Those new to art assume criticism is eternal. The judgment of the ages is inviolate. There are geniuses, great masters, derivatives, and incompetents. Each nailed down firmly in critical art history, once and for all .

That is a lie. 

Beyond such illusion, individual perception can disagree. For example, as a person perhaps jaded by photographs and movies, I find a lot of Renaissance and (especially) rococo painting quite boring .

However, I am free to revise attitude. I once thought Marin quite a shallow lightweight. Thin pictures, rough technique. Yet now I enjoy most of them as beautifully constructed gateways to aesthetic and natural contemplation. Obviously, the paintings remain the same. On the other hand, my mind not so much.

The joy we find in almost anything boils down to how it increases our enchantment with existence. Please note _ NOT our understanding of existence. Lately, I find my enchantment quota quite elevated by Marin’s seemingly crude colorful splashes on watercolor paper. In contrast to how they failed to inspire me years ago .

Make of that what you will. I find it encouraging – even enchanting – that I am privileged to be flexible enough to change my mind .