Art Criticism

On Bad Art as Journeyman

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I need my bad work to walk ahead of me, to light the trashed road ahead.  I need my bad work to trail close behind me, to catch me in error and to sheath my verbal kit.

That bad work comes along, not a journeyman, but a hidden marker, on the way to good work ahead feels like a waste. I want to use my bad work to protect me until that day that all my work turns out good, or that day I die.

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