I remember clearly, years ago, seeing the Pollack retrospective at the MOMA, standing in front a huge canvas and feeling the weight of it, as if it fell on me. I don’t mean to sound heady, but the painting had that thing you have to reckon with in great art: part car crash, part divine revelation. Not being a big Pollack fan, I still had my abstract expressionist favorites (Rothko and his sublime, I’m looking at you ). Yet seeing that painting in person has stuck with me ever since. So when I came across this article on Pollack painting fractals, it clicked on a light. A bright light. I don’t think Pollack knew he was painting fractals, but he did understand he was pealing back another layer of how we as humans view the world. Bad ass. It’s not a stretch to say he was painting the frickin' Matrix.