One evening in about 2005 I started watching a movie chronicling the life of Jackson Pollock.

Up until that night, I had a cursory understanding of who he was, and the impact he had on American Art in the 1940s, 50s, and 60s.

As the movie progressed, something inside of me cracked open. Some memory. Some urning. Some momentum that I still can’t put my finger on.

The days and weeks progressed and I found myself stretched huge canvases on the floor of my garage.

There were moments when I wondered what the hell I was doing late at night with a cigarette hanging out of my mouth, wrestling with canvas nearly as big as my car.

Instead of resolving some inner, middle age crisis…

I bought paint.

Not just at the art stores I’d been shopping since I was a graphic design student in college. Instead, I was buying gallons of mis-mixed paint at the hardware store.

Somehow I knew once I got started it would be a tragedy to be limited by small tubes of expensive paint.

What I had in my mind’s eye was big and bold and required volumes of paint in order to throw my soul on those canvases.

I only painted about 3 meaningful pieces during that era. This one is a tribute to Jackson Pollock, the man that years after is death – long prior to my birth – gave me permission to paint… really big.

My first big work titled Thank You Jackson, circa 2005

Since then, I’ve set up various studios in an attempt to be ready when inspiration hits again. First my loft in South Lake Union circa 2006. Then years later in New Mexico, circa 2012.

When I moved to Orange County in 2013, I was nearly engulfed by the insanity of Matthew’s divorce.

Years went by.

No painting.

I dabbled in collage. Ideas raced through my mind but were extinguished by other priorities as I focused on stabilizing our lives.

Today I think I am ready again. That feeling I had in 2005 is beginning to return. It’s starting with firing up this blog again, after a six-year hiatus.

While I am not sure what will emerge this time, I am forever grateful to Jackson Pollock for being a radical and rebellious man who inspired me to start throwing paint on a canvas nearly 15 years ago.