Art and Life
make beautiful
music
together.

Witch Book?

Let's get to the point.
Buy my book, or ...
I'LL PUT A SPELL ON YOU!
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,

Depingo

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

MAKE NO BONES ABOUT IT.
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.

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"

Indeed.

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,

Depingo

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,

Depingo

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

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,

Depingo

Gavella

Gavella wants you to buy my book, Depingo Ergo Sum. She finds the book smashing! (Press the big yellow button to the right.)

The guy depicted in the illustration above? Well unfortunately for him, he did not buy one. Gavella wants to hammer home that the book is fun through the entire 108 pages! Full of humor, excitement, paintings, drawings, cartoons, prose and poetry of the most esoteric kind. You can find Gavella on page 105. Buy the book now to avoid a sharp blow to your head.

Paint on,
Depingo

Good News

Susan,

Depingo's alter ego,

is having a solo show at
the GOOD NEWS Cafe and Gallery,
in Woodbury, Connecticut
Opening Reception is OCTOBER 2
3 to 5 P.M

**twenty current paintings and

a retrospective of published work**
Please come
There may be a brief appearance by
Depingo.

Postcard from the Sea of Life - Land of CYMK

Greetings from the Land of CYMK.

I wish I were back in second grade at PS 15, so I could tell my teacher and my classmates what I did this summer. Since that's not the case, I'll recount my adventures to you, Depingo's readers. We're a class in ourselves in a way, aren't we? At least we're classy and we do experience and discuss life's experiences together. We should get credit for that, shouldn't we?

What I did on my summer vacation: I traveled to the Land of CYMK, which is on the ninth continent–the Continent of Color. They have so many colors in CYMK that you could drink them. And believe me, I mixed and imbibed every color I could every day!... to the point that I was saturated! completely, totally saturated! Yes, I became drunk with color! But I was a responsible drinker. That's why I can still write and was able to return to my home town, NYC and home, my blog.

I used a little trick I picked up (also in the second grade) from Hansel and Gretel. Following in their footsteps, I dropped color samples, both greytones and rainbow colors, on my way to the Land of CYMK so I could find my way back again. You can see them on top of the jpeg of the cover of my book, Depingo Ergo Sum, (above), which is coming out October 2nd and being sold in conjunction with my solo show through my gallery, The Good News Gallery, in Woodbury, Ct.

While in The Land of CYMK I decided to print my book with their colors, even though CYMK colors are somewhat darker than our colors. They are moody to the point where they like to bring down any psychodelic hues one might have used, and just darker generally. In order to share the cover with you, I had to evacuate all my cover colors from CYMK, and lead them back to my blog over the Technicolor Bridge through the Province of Photoshop, where I reincarnated them into RGB colors. They are not quite as glamorous as they are in CYMK coloring on the actual book, but at least you can get a preview.

Who knew when we were crayoning in our colooring books a long time ago that there there were so many color systems? I certainly didn't before my trip to CYMK . I thought color was color. Now we all know better.

Paint on,
Depingo

Postcard from the Sea of Life - The Highlands

Sooooo... Hi!

...from the Highlands...

I can say that because I am soooo high!
High in the sky catching butterflies, that is. Come fly along with me--

Catch Some Butterflies.

If you can't, you can at least catch the video Catch Some Butterflies, right here on my blog. Just click on the link below to view another enchanting, indeed moving, video from that world famous film maker and my niece, Amy Youngs.

As are all butterflies, it's free. Right here ....

http://youtu.be/uHFZ5nXskMs

Paint on,

Depingo

Gone Fishing

Dear Readers,

I HATE TO LEAVE YOU all just when we've become such good blogmates discussing art and life. I've had a wonderful time chatting with you this year. Has anyone decided which we like better, art or life? Not very likely. That would be tantamount to deciding which we like better, blood or oxygen. Art and life are too interconnected–one cannot choose between them. We have to embrace both wholeheartedly.

Fun though this has been, I must now take my leave. Every Summer I go fishing–not for fish, but for the many esoteric, enlightening, exhilarating adventures the Sea of Life has to offer. I especially like to experience things I've never done before. Actually, now that I think about it, fishing in the Sea of Life is better than blood or oxygen. Everything in the Sea of Life is grist for my painting/writing mill. In addition to writing my book, Depingo Ergo Sum, and preparing for my October show, some of the things I wish to experience on my sabbatical are:

Riding a zebra. In my entire life, I have never ridden a zebra. It's got to be easier than riding my favorite horse, the willful Freckles. That supercilious stallion used to intimidate me whenever I mounted him by turning his head slowly and irreverently while looking down at me as if I were addled. I suppose he thought he was too high class for mere riding, because he was a jumper. I tried to curry favor with him by whispering sweetly "We're going to have a nice, polite ride, right Freckles? And you're going to be a gentlehorse, and not throw me, bite me or crush my legs against any stone fences by cantering too close to them, right Freckles?" The look on his horsey face clearly said, "Yeah, right!"

But I digress. I am going to make a point, or should I say a stripe, of riding a zebra this month. It's written in black and white. I must do it. I've heard they gallop at a very fast clip, so we both might work up a sweat during the ride. Perhaps then I can experience another thing I've always wanted to do...

Shower under an elephant. That should be energy efficient, refreshing, and I might even get clean. At least my skin will look better than the elephant's. Then I'll be prepared t0...

Dance a pas de deux with an ostrich. I look forward to pirouetting en pointe in a feathered tutu and being swept up in adagio by an ostrich who is supporting my fragile dancer's body above his head with his wings as he gracefully turns and balances me. I've dreamed about doing this my entire life, but my mother would never let me. Then again, maybe I'll...

Go really wild and dive even farther into Photoshop which is just as exotic as the above when you consider my technical acumen. But catch a fish? Never.

I have a few words on the subject of fishing. First of all, it is quite an unsportsmanlike enterprise to pluck a fish out of its environment with a barbed hook through its lip. When I point this out to my fisherman friends, their stereotypical response is that fish don't feel pain. They often add that they throw them back after they catch them.

Depingo is not one to spoil fishermen's fun. I just want them to be more empathetic with their prey.
Let them imagine that they are walking down the street, going to work or picking up their girlfriend for a dinner date (which dinner I hope is not going to include a fish course.) While sauntering along, my fisherman friend comes upon a fat, lit Montecristo cigar or a slice of chocolate devil's food cake floating right under his nose. The aroma is to die for–and the fisherman may do just that. He lunges forward to get it into his mouth as fast as possible. He's hooked!

To see what this is like, pretend you've been hooked. The next thing you know, you are out of this world, transported to a higher plane inhabited by a more complex form of life, surrounded by air you can't breathe, with a sharp hook through your lip. You are punctured and bleeding, choking and heaving, flipping around because you can't breathe and are terrified by the alien appearance of the creature who hooked you. Are you going to be OK with it if he decides not to eat you and throws you back suffering from hypoxia and a lip with a hole in it? No! You are going to be furious and your girlfriend is going to be even angrier because you are now really late for your date. I say to the fishermen of the world: did you ever even consider that fish might have dates?

To rectify the sporting inequity of fishing, I have devised a new methodology that will make fishing more of a real contest. All you have to do to fish Depingo-fashion is to throw away your rod. Keep the line with the hook on the end of it, though. Next, attach another hook to the other end of the line. You should now have a length of line with a hook on each end. Hook one of the hooks through your own lip, put something that fish find delicious on the other hook and throw that one into the water. Oh, and don't use your hands; clasp them behind your back. If you get a bite, you must bring the fish in using only your cheek muscles. Then you and the fish will be evenly matched. It will be a battle of equals and you will be a true sportsman.

Or, you can skip the hook through your lip and do as I will be doing for the next few weeks– fishing in the Sea of Life. My mind, senses, toothbrush and laptop are already packed in my suitcase, which I've bound up with a chain of nerve synapses. I'm looking forward to catching many new experiences. I'm going to miss you, but I'll be back after labor day. Until then, I'll be keeping in touch via postcards from the Sea of Life! So watch for them on this blog.

Paint on,

Depingo

Mc SKETCHBOOK

I love the New York Public Library.

It's the perfect place to read my Kindle.
If it rains, I go inside.

Weather or Not

Winner!

WE HAVE A WINNER HERE!

Colors Askew

PICASSO WAS OUT OF RED
So he started his period - Blue (1901-1904)
My painted bench is of manganese hue
The alizarin tube was through.

I painted it so I could rest
While working on my book
–and solo show–
Where the painting will go.
The curator declared the bench my best
(not crimson but blue)
Have a look.

To you
The colors may seem askew ...
But hey! When you're outta red
you use blue
Whatever else are you gonna do!

~~~~

Paint on,
Depingo

McLAUGHS

The ones with the polka dots are the hardest!

The Shape of Things

A FRIEND OF MINE, ANOTHER PAINTER, recently criticized me for painting my subjects and models so irreverently. He said he noticed that I had a complete lack of concern for their meaning or function.

He's right. As a closet formalist, I concern myself primarily with form or shape. I can rely on shapes. They maintain their integrity. A shape stays the same no matter how you look at it, or where it is placed. A word and its meaning can change but a shape stays the same. If I turn a painting upside down, the shapes will remain just as I painted them, even though inverted. But the word for the shapes will change drastically, thus transforming the meaning and function of the element.

First image:
I can demonstrate this In my painting Upsidedown Sky. In its normal configuration, the way I painted it, the sky is at the top of the canvas and also appears as a reflection in the swimming pool. The reflected sky actually has heightened color because of the turquoise paint on the walls of the (actual) pool. The pink rectangular shape bordering the pool is the above ground part of the pool–at least those are the words that describe it in this upright orientation.

As I paint, I rotate the canvas. This insures that the composition works from all four sides. When you turn Sky Blue upside down:

Second image:
The pink border of the pool is no longer a pool element, but becomes a skylight through which you see the water. But in this orientation the water is not water anymore, it is sky. The element that I originally painted as sky is now at the bottom of the canvas. This way it is no longer sky; it looks like and becomes a lake. In this painting, sky and water, two disparate words with different meanings, are fungible when inverted. The shapes stay the same, but the words and functions for them change.

In addition, when viewed upside down, what used to be the distant background appears more like a reflection in the lake because it is now inverted. Similarly, the hanging vine when the painting is upright transforms into a shoot. Here again, the shapes stay the same but the words change. This is why I like shapes better than words, although ...

I love words when I "paint" with them in my essays.

Paint on,
Depingo (who is sometimes unsure which end is up)

The Cufflinks, Too?

WORSE THAN SPAM

that Uncle Sam
in his red, white and blue with stars.
He'll take all your money and then your shirt
For dinner you might even have to eat dirt
with no dessert!
Or the kind of Spam than comes in a can.

You'd be better off living on Mars–
with no cars
*Viewing the stars
from Mars*
But not Sam's.

Maybe you should
go on the lam
Get away from Sam!
I am.
*****
***
*