And finally to a painting called White Light from 1954, one of the final paintings in Jackson Pollock's career. White Light, a very interesting painting and we see Pollock who we've seen gradually moving back out of abstraction towards figuration dive again head long into abstraction. Pure abstraction, no totemic forms, no eyeballs and eyelashes, no she-wolf, no figures lurking under there somewhere as far as we can tell. And we start to get really the idea of a very restless artist. An artist who had been building in some kind of programmatic way up through his work of 1950, the so-called high point of his career, when fame crushed him, as it were. The pressure that came along with that crushed him. And he really didn't have an answer for that. He didn't have, as an artist, an aesthetic avenue to follow after that, and instead, kept on recycling old ideas. Let's try this, a little bit of this, a little bit of this, a little bit of this. And in White Light, we almost have a kind of a teaser of every single thing that Pollock ever did to a canvas, all on one painting now, throwing everything in the kitchen sink of the canvas and seeing what sticks. Kind of moving in chronological order for this painting itself, in the lowest areas of the painting, we see brushed areas of paint, oil paint, artist oil paint. We see some red here, some black, more black. We see hints of this commercially. Primed support again, here, there's white that's been scraped back, some green here. So, basically, the entire painting was painted abstractly with a brush, very thin, conventional oil painting. What comes next is this kind of toothpaste-type, artist quality paint squeezed directly out of the tube. Well, not quite next, because we also have some palette knife blobs of oil paint which recall Full Fathom Five, very thickly and painted, encrusted surface. After that we have some of this artist's oil paint kind of toothpaste applications which recall Shimmering Substance painting, that we have these little swirls of paint coming directly out of the tube. After that, what do we have? Well, we have the painting now going to the floor off of the easel. Back onto the floor again. Again, like Full Fathom Five. This, this move from horizontality to verticality and back again. And here we have, again, the alkyd enamel still kicking around the studio, lacing the surface together. And kind of, you know, finely sealing everything back with that drip, that iconic drip that Pollock made his name with, that he never really, fully harnessed after 1950 in my opinion. Here we have a very strong painting. A very complicated painting and a painting that is not in any way resolved. Instead, its power is based on that tension. It's based on this frustration of not knowing really where this painting needs to go, and instead packing everything possible into it, and then seeing what happens. So what happens is, finally, in my mind, chaos. The painter who said no chaos, damn it, in defense of those high 1950 paintings which are read as being about the explosion of the atomic bomb, and things like that. He said, no chaos, damn it, finally succumbs to that chaos. A painting that has very little internal logic, and rather, is just one thing after another, after another, recycling all these different relationships that Pollock had at different times to paint and to the canvas itself. Nonetheless, an extremely emotionally strong painting for all those reasons. But certainly not the sublimated beauty that Pollock had achieved in 1950. And actually, not really that lugubrious dark American Gothic theme that had been recurring throughout his career. Rather, kind of everything all packed together at once. 1955, the year following, Pollock essentially did not paint, and gave up painting entirely. You want to talk about a frustrated painter, well there's the definition. 1956, the year following, was the year of Pollock's death when he drunkenly crashed into a telephone poll.