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

Search This Blog

Saturday, February 26, 2011

Postcard from the Sea of Life - Still Life


MURDER IS NEVER EASY. Sometimes, however, it is justifiable. Let me tell you my side of the story.

I am sure you can imagine how upset I felt out on the Sea of Life when Hard Drive failed. I still had not fully recovered from almost having become Depingo stew for the culinary pleasure of the flesh-eating Sulu Beloix when Hard Drive became corrupt! I had already had enough near-death experiences to last a lifetime and didn't want to endure a corrupt Hard Drive or corrupt anybody around me. So I simply killed him.

That's right–shocking as this must sound, I murdered Hard Drive. Furthermore, I enjoyed it. Sadistically I removed him from his life support, Mac, spun him down, and sat there watching him. He struggled and sputtered until with a final mechanical...I would even go so far as to say comical... burp, he expired.

I am sure, dear readers, you will forgive me. It clearly was either he or I. I had to kill Hard Drive. Any court of law in the Sea of Life would find that it was self defense! I hated Hard Drive for becoming corrupt and I knew his slothful ineptitude would eventually kill me. There simply was no excuse for his bad behavior. Still, he had given me many years of faithful service before he went bad.

I didn't want a dead body on the yacht. So I gave Hard Drive a conflicted sentimental kiss, placed him in a toile-covered box, tied a bow around it and ordered Captain Sum to anchor The Ergo off the nearest island. My dog Bella, my cat Blossom and I disembarked with my Still Life (dead Hard Drive) and made our way to a tropical rain forest. Birds perched on a branch above us, chirping Chopin's Funeral March in birdsong. Blossom delivered a eulogy of sorts, saying that she had always enjoyed sleeping on top of Hard Drive when he had lived in Mac and thanking him for the warmth he had provided her during her frequent naps. Bella dug the grave, but had to be cautioned not to have too much fun digging. I placed a marker, a DVD, on the grave. After the interment we solemnly made our way back to The Ergo.

No hard drive feelings on my part. I hope Hard Drive's corrupt soul rests in peace.

Paint on,
Depingo

Thursday, February 24, 2011

Art and the Hostile Takeover



I WAS VERY SORRY TO READ the obituary of Joseph H. Flom, Esq. in today's New York Times. I knew him professionally and worked with him on art projects for the firm with which we both were affiliated. To clarify that, he was a senior name partner and I was a midlevel employee.

Mr. Flom was a brilliant lawyer who perfected the hostile corporate takeover. But more important, he was an artist. That's how our paths crossed. He worked on the 35th floor of the building on the telephone masterminding billion-dollar deals, while I labored on the 42nd floor for what worked out to $45 an hour, drawing editorial illustrations and cartoons for the SASM&F Newsletter.

His obituary referred to the firm's "lawyers in thrall to Mr. Flom as they would try to decode his doodles." These doodles, which were amazingly controlled and complex, were always rendered on lined yellow legal pads in ballpoint pen. My drawings were done with a fancier pen, but they too started out on yellow legal pads because that was what was available. Remind anyone of the caves at Lascaux, where one of the cave dwellers discovered that various pigments could represent life? Even if not, I believe it supports my thesis that art and life are one–or fungible, as Mr. Flom would say.

Unlike his acolytes, I never had to think about decoding the hidden messages in Mr. Flom's doodles. I knew they were art the moment I saw them. I wanted to incorporate these beautiful "doodles" in my art, asked him for permission, and Mr. Flom agreed. Coincidentally, the drawing I recently chose for the header of Depingo Ergo Sum is one that incorporates one of his doodles under the baton. I chose it for its lyrical quality, which reminds me of music.

Goodbye, my doodling art friend. I enjoyed making art with you. I would like to make art with you again sometime–just not too soon.

Paint on,
Depingo


Sunday, February 20, 2011

Postcard from the Sea of Life - Dancing with the Sulu Nebouxi

FLIGHTS OF FANCY! Went dancing with Sulu last night.

Sulu took me to meet her flock, the Sulu Nebouxi, who are beautiful and fascinating! They seemed very interested in me too, but said I was a little skinny. (I wondered why they cared.) They invited me to a dance that was to take place on their sacred grounds that evening. I asked about the dress code. They chirped, "Pretty dress." But they did mention that in order to dance with them, I had to eat all afternoon because they wanted to fatten me up. They also mentioned that I should rub olive oil all over my body.

When I came back for the dance, they were all very colorfully dressed and quite jolly. I frankly don't know why they bothered with the costumes, as their natural plumage is gorgeous. They were also sporting fanciful headdresses and masks with human features painted on them. They could never fool anyone with those masks though, because they had to poke holes in the middle, from which their long yellow beaks protruded.

To tell the truth, I felt kind of underdressed in my little blue Ralph Lauren. The dance they taught me was sort of like a line dance, only done in a circle around a cauldron just about the size of me. It was raised up on a bonfire, with boiling water and herbs in it. I danced around it with them for a bit. One of them put a few sprigs of rosemary in my hair, saying it went great with my outfit. Another kept offering me garlic to hold under my tongue, saying it was an excellent breath freshener. I drew the line at the garlic. I have standards for my breath!
They asked several times if I had remembered to rub the olive oil on my body. I said they were so nice to share their beauty secrets with me and that I felt really glowing. Just when everything got going and feathers were flying, one of them chirped, "Wait a minute–Depingo–she too thin to dance." The music stopped abruptly. The Sulu Nebouxi told me to go back to our yacht, eat as much as I could all the next day, do the oil rub again and return the next night for a continuation of the dance.

This was just a little weird for my taste. I didn't feel like stuffing myself; the olive oil had just about ruined my dress, and I didn't feel like dancing with them anymore. So the next night I stayed on the ship.

As soon as it got dark, I heard chirping. It kept getting louder and louder. I peeked out the porthole and couldn't believe my eyes. The Sulu Nebouxi–the entire flock–were descending on my yacht. I did what I had to do. I opened the porthole, leaned out, and putting all pleasantries aside, bellowed,

"Get the flock out of here."

Paint on,
Depingo

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Postcard from the Sea of Life - Galapogos


GREAT TO BE ON THE SEA OF LIFE AGAIN. Helloooooo from the Galapogos Islands. The flora and fauna are exotic here, but also very friendly.

Miss you all and wish you were here. I've met a new friend– a little flighty, but a great guide. Her name is Sulu. We're having lots of fun island-hopping and seeing the sights. I guess you could call us birds of a feather. I invited Sulu back to the yacht for drinks. She was for the most part very polite, but I didn't like it when she stuck her long beak into her wine glass. Remember when we were kids and put our straws into the last remaining drops of our soda and sucked it up? (I always got sent from the table when I did that.) Remember that irritating sucking noise? When Sulu sucked up her wine with that long beak of hers, it sounded just like that!

Paint on,
Depingo

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Mc SKETCHBOOK



I'M DRAWING MYSELF
with a digital pen
I'm making it loose and flirty.
But I've got a yen for the pen of yore
when the ink splashes made me dirty.

Saturday, February 5, 2011

Mc SKETCHBOOK- Ink Me, Baby




I'M DRAWING MYSELF
with a digital pen
I'm making it loose and flirty.
But I've got a yen for the pen of yore
when ink splashes made me dirty.

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Mc LAUGHS


All bags must be stowed in the overhead compartment.