Free Planet realises that Paul Jackson Pollock died in 1956, but what sets Vincent Priblo's work head and shoulders above the rest of the also-rans is his layering of his layers, and his tones, his splatters seem to have purpose, hidden meaning, post-machine romanticism. To me, but who really knows?
Well, that's the point of Abstract Expressionism, "We can't know, we can only feel."
