Edward Hopper is my favorite photographic inspiration, even though he was mostly a painter. His paintings explored feeling, emotion, and especially loneliness. His “Nighthawks,” one of his most popular works (see below), is one of my favorites.

I am no Edward Hopper, but he is very much in my mind when exploring beautiful and sometimes lonely works.

I can’t stop going to the Shift Food Wagon, which parks three nights a week next to the Argyle Brewery, now the town’s former and quite beautiful railroad station.

You can see some of Hopper’s work here.

The scene where Shift parks – Thursday, Friday, and Saturday –  is evocative enough – the station is a magnificent work of craftsmanship. But the lovingly restored and popular new food wagon is haunting and looks like a mirage sticking out in the dark or a ghost ship sailing in a storm.

 

(Hoppers’s” Nighthawks”)

On the very dark and cold black nights of winter, the Shift Food Wagon (excellent wood-fired pizzas and salads), so well-lit, stands out in the dark. It’s this photographer’s dream.

I can’t stop taking pictures of the Shift Wagon at night. It speaks of beauty, loneliness, and place.

I thank Corey and Sarah, the co-owners and chefs at Shift,  for putting up with me and my camera; they are too busy to get annoyed.

The picture was painted in 1942. It shows three people eating at a diner. There is a haunting and very American kind of loneliness in the picture; it has dogged me and haunted me.

The photos are not posed; most show Maria coming up to the wagon’s front where Sarah stands. She is always alone, and I stand behind her. Sarah is always in the window. Behind her, by the wood-fired stove, her husband Corey works the oven. They work well together, quietly and efficiently. The blog site, like the food, is well-done and simple to navigate.

We usually just say hello.

They are friendly, but there isn’t a lot of chit-chat. They are very serious about their food.

If you order something online for 5 p.m., it will be waiting.

 

 

The painting was inspired by a short story about loneliness by the writer Ernest Hemingway; the story’s name has been lost.

Hopper died in 1967 in New York City. These images are posted in his honor. I am grateful for his inspiration so long after his death.

 The perspective is rare – and lonely.

I plan to visit the Shift in the winter as often as possible and we will order their food all year. But for the sake of a Hopper photograph, I think I need some darkness.