It was on a visit to New York in 1998 that I discovered the paintings of Jackson Pollock. The Whitney Museum was presenting a retrospective of his works. I was fascinated by the strength of movement, the immense scale of the paintings. To me they displayed a sensitive abstraction, in particular his drip paintings. The lines and constellations of colors had undoubted evocative power, the same power found in nature when we glimpse a pattern in the organization of trees, blades of grass, and more commonly in the forms of clouds. It is as if a part of our imagination opens up and spools out effortlessly to infinity, because no recognizable form can hold it back.