Window, Venice 1907

John Marin made this etching, "Window, Venice," with ink on paper, and it’s all about the dance of lines. It's like he's sketching with acid, letting the process itself dictate the image. What strikes me is how the light seems to vibrate off the surface. Marin doesn't give us solid shapes, but rather a collection of fleeting impressions. Look at the way he renders the figures on the steps, they’re barely there, like ghosts in the Venetian light. The ink isn’t precious, it’s immediate and raw. You can almost feel the artist’s hand moving across the plate, scratching and biting. There’s a looseness here that reminds me of Cy Twombly, that same sense of capturing a moment before it disappears. Like Twombly, Marin embraces chance and imperfection, reminding us that art is as much about the process as it is about the final product. It's a conversation, a back-and-forth between the artist, the medium, and the world itself.