At one point I mention "He was a great painter, I knew him very well, we came up together." and at another time I highly regard "those painters whom I came up with." I also go into a long story about him and get touchy when Ken brings up his death.
I decided to play the relationship as the two of them being old friends, at least as much as Rothko could have a friend. We worked together to "move beyond what was there to what is here," forging into the world of Abstract Expressionism. Then, as Pollock "grew tired of himself, grew tired of his form, grew tired of his viewers...he no longer believed there were any real people left to look at pictures." I watched as he "tried to retreat from life," and eventually resorted to alcoholism which lead to his "lazy suicide" as I call it. I had lost the one person I felt close to. Now, alone without a place of my own, I had thrown myself wholey into creating art hat was neither alone nor "rootless."
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