Jackson Pollock is one of my favourite artists. Summertime, at the Tate, was most memorable. I love the images of him standing over huge canvas, paint can in hand, splattering paint with what seems to be wild abandon. And somewhere out of the messy haze of colour emerge the freshness of a new morning, sunlight hitting the treetops, glancing off the water, glistening golden light. The bald head, the dripping paint. Uninhibited. My art and craft is tame and docile in comparison – but I love being reminded by Pollock of what is possible. Someday..
Painting like Pollock