You’ll hunt me. You’ll condemn me, set the dogs on me. Because that’s what needs to happen. Because sometimes…the truth isn’t good enough. Sometimes people deserve more. Sometimes people deserve to have their faith rewarded.

Edward Hopper (July 22, 1882 – May 15, 1967)

Hopper was fascinated by what isn’t available to our senses. In his mysterious paintings, he makes felt what isn’t there, the nothing, the nothing that isn’t there. He was known to be solitary and thoughtful, like the blond woman in New York Movie. In the forties and fifties, it was easier to appreciate solitude than it is today. Hopper painted public places, rooms where people gathered, but usually with a few people or nobody in the rooms. Few people in those days went to museums during the week, and the galleries might be vacant. 

You could stand before a painting for long minutes and not hear voices. There was silence in those days. It was associated with solitude, sacredness, internal life.

There’s something happening to me. There’s something awakening in my mind; I can’t control it.

“There’s a great shot of me falling back from one of my sisters who’s just been slain. In my mind, that was my lover.” - Tessa Thompson

If what we’re doing doesn’t get under your skin, you’re more screwed up than I thought, or kidding yourself.