Jackson Pollock saved my life.

A special happy birthday to my lord and savior, Jackson Pollock! I remember it like it was yesterday, a timid unaspiring creative who had been pushed to painting because of a mental breakthrough. Having turned away from music and acting, in my reclusion I thought it would be cool to start visiting art museums.

Walking into the MET contemporary art wing was exciting and new. Life for me had been pretty grayscale up until then I had stumbled upon art as a way to cope with time and the tsunami of unexplained emotions and abstract intrusive thoughts. There was something soothing about walking that wing, then suddenly,

I stumbled upon Pollock’s Autumn Rhythm (Number 30). I didn’t know the artist, nor had seen the work before.  It was as if someone kicked me in the balls, pulled me by the throat and threatened “This is who you are! An artist.” right into my face. I walked out a different person that day. I had purpose and knew I could transform my crisis into beauty and give myself to art for life.

I came back to see it and spend time with it religiously for years to come. The influence is still palpable in my work , especially now that Contil revisits some of those years in journals.

Can you separate the art from the man? I believe the art decides that when it’s true art. Painter Omar d’Leon always told me that a painting is light, and that no matter where you place it, it illuminates. In my case, this proved true. Without diving deeper into the story, I can only say it literally saved my life. Sharing a couple of portraits of the many I painted of Jackson years ago. Most were lost in the fire.