Susan's "subject matter, context and medium...present a coherent artistic vision"
John Torreano, Clinical Professor of Studio Art, NYU

"Great stuff. Love your work."
Seymour Chwast

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Monday, October 31, 2011

Art and Life
make beautiful

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Witch Book?

Let's get to the point.
Buy my book, or ...
It's only 50% of your soul
(err, that is 50 bucks plus shipping)
When you see it, you'll be flipping.
It is absolutely gripping.
To life and art it is true.
It's really for you!
As to how many I've got left ...
just a few.

Witch [sic] excerpt? Got a Bone in My Leg, page 51. "Those bones claimed me. The skull, clavicle, sternum and all 24 ribs, some sort of grim ersatz chorus sang to me, 'Yes, we are thee! This is what you'll be sooner than you think.' "

Paint on,


Friday, October 14, 2011

Got a Bone in My Book, So Buy It...$50.00 + shipping

The book is great!
I didn't buy it; that's why I look like this.
Be afraid. Be very afraid.
There are fewer books left than I have ribs.
I happen to be in it.
Look on page 48.

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

Master Ghosts

I RECEIVED THE FOLLOWING EMAIL AND PHOTO from John Beach, who is one of Depingo Ergo Sum's readers, and who also photographed my show:

"You know, Depingo, you said you were looking at all those photos from your opening and kept seeing new things in them the more you looked at them.

I too studied them because all did not seem quite right with the images. I thought I saw some faces in that long view in the gallery room that were not there when I took the shot. They were not very clear, but they were there. So I began to enhance the photo more and more. It was downright spooky. I felt like Bill Murray and Dan Aykroyd using their ghostbusting machine. Then, I thought, "Why not?" So I called them and borrowed their ghostbusting gizmo and made it an add tool for my photo studio. I looked again ... and ... I could see them..the faces ... they were there!

At first they were only little faded spots floating around on the ceiling, but with the greater enhancement capabilities of the ghostbusting add on, I soon began to see their ghostly, though benevolent faces, clearly. Did you know, Depingo, that your favorite master painters and your mentor, JT, came to your gallery showing? It is true! Look up towards the ceiling of the attached image.

Paint on, Depingo, paint on..................JB"


Saturday, October 8, 2011

Metamorphosis and Back

THE PAINT-SPLATTERED, WILD-HAIRED ARTIST, a solitary creature, pushes out of her natural canvas-lined habitat in the woods. It is her pupa–her studio. She feels naked without the pupa, but knows it is time to evolve. It is definitely time because she is flying–without wings! To compensate for the nakedness and the lack of wings, she picks out a flowered dress, paints her lips pink and finds that she can walk gracefully in shoes. "Besides, probably no one ever attends a gallery opening without shoes," she muses.

It is lonely in the studio since all her paintings were sent to the gallery. Reminiscing, she thinks it odd that she has worked so hard on the appearance of her paintings all these years, but not on her own. The car taking her to the gallery arrives and she gets in. She thinks it is most likely all a dream, but then, looks down and sees that she is no longer in tattered, paint-stained jeans, but actually has on a dress. Extraordinary! It must be real.

She is so happy at the opening and is flying so high she might as well have wings. In fact, she can feel them sprouting. She does have them! They are fluttering on her back. She is tickled by them and lifted off the ground.

Airborne, recalling Icarus's fate, she does not fly too high during the flight home as she basks in the warmth and appreciation of all her family and friends. She is very lucky to have them.

Grounded, the artist returns to her pupa, tucks in her wings, kicks off her shoes and, once again barefoot, starts painting, for ...

As a butterfly must fly, she must paint!

Paint on,


Wednesday, October 5, 2011

When an Emotional Hemophiliac Dreams

AT A PARTY HIGHLY REMINISCENT of an art opening, the kitchen is microscopically detailed–just like a painting. It is a well-furnished kitchen, but with glassware that is trying to pass itself off as elegant but is too large. It has been designed by someone who has never lived in a well-appointed house or gone to a 5-star restaurant in his (or her) entire life. The emotional hemophiliac has, and takes note of the glassware. She shrugs and smokes a joint.

Sam, a good friend, asks if he can have one. Of course he can, the hemophiliac replies. She gives him a joint and lights it, while noticing he already has several of his own in his shirt pocket. She wonders why he wanted hers.

He asks her to dance and they dance in the kitchen of the would–be fancy glasses. They are the only dancers. He is a good dancer, but, being acutely emotional, the hemophiliac doesn't like being as close as the dance requires. She can feel his belly against hers. He steps on the hemophiliac's toe. More emotions flow. However, they continue dancing and twirling around. The dancing is exhilarating and just when the hemophiliac is getting into the gracefulness of it, Sam decides to end the dance by falling on his back, spread eagle on the floor. She falls on top of him, also spread eagle, but with her legs inside of his. She does not get hurt because he is so soft that he cushions her fall.

When the hemophiliac gets up, the hostess asks her if she would like to be Print Director of her company. "No," the hemophiliac replies, "because I am living in Connecticut."

"What do you do up there?" queries the hostess. "I head up my own print company," replies the hemophiliac, as she walks into to the living room.

She passes a reclining cat who looks suspiciously like her own, sleeping in the hallway. As she walks past, the cat sits up, then jumps ahead of her, chasing a terrified bird. The children present are screaming about the inevitable food chain reaction that is about to happen. There are feathers all over the place.

The emotional hemophiliac catches the bird and notices it is a bright blue one from one one of her paintings. "I got this," she tells the children. She cradles the bird in both her hands and takes it back to her studio. She replaces the bird into the empty spot in her painting.

She wakes up and looks at her hands. They are stained cobalt.

Paint on,


Saturday, October 1, 2011

Butterflies in my Stomach

I've got butterflies in my stomach thinking about my show, Depingo Ergo Sum at the Good News Gallery, 694 Main Street Stouth, Woodbury, Ct., today, October 2, at 3 to 5 p.m. I will let the butterflies out at the show.

I hope you will be there unless you are a lepidopterist. No lepidopterists will be admitted!

Paint on,


Depingo Ergo Sum, the Show

Show Time!

Well, dear readers, it's almost show time. (A sneak preview above) I will be happy to have all my friends and family and paintings in one place at the Good News Gallery, Woodbury, Ct., tomorrow, October 2, from 3 to 5 p.m. Actually, my friends and family are my art–just in portrait form. Now, haven't I always said that art and life are interchangeable?

I rest my case!

I hope you all come. Hey! Free drinks and hors d' oeurves for two hours...who wouldn't? No...only kidding... the real reason you should come is ...

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx I would love to share my art with you.

Paint on,