Life Is A Hail Of Color, An Exhilarating Freefall

Dan Zak: July 4, 2008. It was one of those shared artist lofts you normally see in movies about distressed bohemians — cavernous, paint-speckled, smelling damply of pot — except this was real life, and I was standing in it, in Brooklyn, looking at an oil painting (maybe 48 by 24 inches) nailed to the hallway between the "living room" and one of the artist's bedrooms. The canvas was a Pollacky hail of brushstrokes that flirted with a familiar kind of geometry. The painting was unsettling, and almost as noisy as my lover's friend's brother's friend's indie-rock band testing its sound levels in the living room.