For many years I've been an admirer of Jackson Pollock's awe-inspiring abstract art. He dripped, flung, poured and otherwise cleverly applied paint to large-scale canvases in seemingly haphazard ways, although in reality his method was highly calculated.
Displayed in my home and office are particularly expressive Pollock prints, their piercing lines, squiggles and layers of vivid color delighting some viewers while assaulting others. "It looks angry," one colleague said recently upon spotting the Pollock over my desk. Long ago my sweet little niece saw the Pollock print hanging in my house and wondered aloud, "What is that splitter splatter?" Clearly she was unimpressed, and I didn't have a good answer for her.
I realize his audacious style doesn't float everyone's boat. But in my mind Pollock created stirring works of genius using an approach no one had contemplated or been bold enough to attempt before. On top of that, his paintings are just downright lively and fun.
"There was a reviewer a while back who wrote that my pictures didn't have any beginning or any end," the artist once said. "He didn't mean it as a compliment, but it was."
Pollock said abstract art "confronts you," and I believe that's a good thing.