Bigindicator

Dion Macellari

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20120206045603-shelved
Shelved, 2011 Acrylic on Panel 18"x 24" © c. 2011 Dion Macellari
Large-girlie-flower
Large Girlie Flower, 2007 Acrylic on Canvas 18" X 24" © 2007
Eyehandflowergirl
Eye Hand Painting, 2008 Acrylic on Panel 18" X 24" © 2008
20140924042300-burial
Burial, 2014 Acrylic on Canvas 18" X 24" © 2014
20140925022104-prometheus
Prometheus, 2013 Acrylic on Linen 18" X 24" © 2013
20110122211229-girlie-ocelot
Girlie Ocelot, 2010 Acrylic on Canvas 30" X 30"
20140925012226-desolation
Desolation, 2014 Acrylic on Linen 24" X 18"
20140924042719-capture_ii
Capture II, 2014 Acrylic on Canvas 30" X 40" © 2014
Guerillaocelot
GuerillaOcelot, 2010 Acrylic on Canvas 36" X 48"
20110122111931-jeremy-1
Jeremy 1, 2010 Acrylic on Canvas 18" X 18" © c. 2010 Dion Macellari
20110122112122-jeremy2
Jeremy 2, 2011 Acrylic on Linen 18" X 24" © c. 2010 Dion Macellari
20110122112232-jeremy-3
Jeremy 3, 2011 Acrylic on Panel 18" X 24" © c. 2010 Dion Macellari
20110122113451-yearning
Yearning, 2010 Acrylic on Canvas 30" X 30" © c. 2010 Dion Macellari
20130303184032-chakraexplosion
Chakra Explosion, 2012 Acrylic on Canvas 18" X 24" © 2012
20161114011510-coveting_candy
Coveting Chocolate, 2016 Acrylic on Canvas 16” X 20” © Dion Macellari
Eyehandflowergirl
Quick Facts
Birthplace
NYC
Lives in
Los Angeles
Works in
Los Angeles
Representing galleries
Tags
obsession, organic, sexy, text drawing, texture, pop, surrealism, figurative
Statement
For a while when I was a little boy I carried around a purse my mother had given me.  Soon my father decided it would be better if I put the purse inside a paper bag.  So I did that.

Eventually, I began putting other things into the bag as well. First it was just pinwheels and French postcards, hundreds of them.  Then I began putting in clumps of cat fur and shards of colored glass and archaic, functionless machine parts.  Quickly I graduated to scarabs and Egyptian erotica, especially the manuscript fragments of the Heliotropic poets of Giza.  My favorite treasures of all were the 27 gesture diagrams for one-armed clowns. It was quite a collection.  I called it Paraphernalia for Defending Myself in a Nightmare and it served me well until recently when the bag broke on 161st and Broadway in Washington Heights.  There was quite a commotion at first, and perhaps I underestimated the power of 35 years of accumulated chaos.  When the bag split open there was no mystery left just a dry heat and a grey light. The purse was no longer in there. I had outgrown it.