Have you ever stood so close to Lucifer that you can sort of smell the cigarette ashes that are embedded in the decades old paint?
(detail)
I have…
Just before every alarm at the San Francisco Museum of Modern art went off sending hoards of armed guards to the painting’s rescue… and while they attempted to frisk me for razor blades and sharpies, I broke free and screamed SAVE ALL THE LOBSTERS… because I’m allergic, so why should anyone else get to eat them? But then I thought better of myself and made my way out of the situation by peeing on the floor and yelling obsceneties at onlookers… because that’s what Pollock would have done.
Jackson Pollock died today in 1956.
And, don’t get me wrong… I’m not sitting here holding a white candle pretending that he was a gift to us or anything… I didn’t really even know about it… Facebook told me. And then I slipped into another dimension where I have to wonder what Pollock would have thought about the internet and all of this social media nonsense… a remembrance of his untimely (but maybe not) passing. If he was as cool as I imagine him to have been… then no. He wouldn’t have cared… but then he would have had a fit had no one said anything. A mean, somewhat sexy and yet still gruesome and gruffy artist that drank and drank… He even held a disdain for the work he created, not really wanting to explain himself and therefore we only have the explanation of others. Like a man that relies on everyone else to tie his shoes… but still thinks he’s better than you, and still, wishing that he hadn’t gone out that fateful night… Warped and twisted with all kinds of mental issues playing out…. And aside from the whole.. WHATEVER of Ed Harris and, like, totally inventing Abstract Expressionism (can you hear my gum smack?)…
Is it just me?
What was, and still is, IT about this guy?



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