Hey there, dudes. Lemme apologize for the delayed What I Wore post (as I know you've been dying to see me wear yet another dress). I blame my lack of posting entirely on having a severe case of Star Wars-itis. Watching Darth Vader dance to Michael Jackson's "Bad" will do that to a girl. It's a slow recovery but I'm taking three doses of The Force a day, so I should be good to go here shortly.
In other news, I stumbled upon some paintings by Edward Hopper recently and I just kinda fell in love all over again. These paintings say "summer" to me...in a lonely Mid-Western kinda way. I spent a lot of hot summers living in the middle of No Where, Indiana, earning a measly wage detasseling corn and working at an egg factory (where I lasted two weeks). I hated it at the time...but these paintings make me long for it again, just a pinch. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do.
|Gas, 1940. I had gas in 2013 but it didn't look anything like this. One thing that always strikes me with Hopper's work is how clean everything appears. Like the attendant just took to the entire landscape with a leaf blower. I remember loving his work in college for the vintage appeal. My painting professors weren't too keen on his "flat" style of painting. But which one has their work in the MoMA, hmmm?|
|Jo in Wyoming Painting That's Josephine Hopper, Edward's wife for more than 40 years. An artist in her own right, she influenced his work and brought out his competitive streak. It seems when she would paint something, like two houses behind a dead tree, a similar motif would appear in Edward's work. In college I attempted a painting with the viewpoint inside of a car. Needless to say, mine wasn't nearly as awesome.|
|Everything Breaks Tuesday: Seriously? It's my summer vacay and it seems everything else decided to take a hiatus too. It started with the washing machine then the mower died and finally my sewing machine just up and stopped at the final stages of this dress. This isn't exactly how I was hoping my summer would start out. dress: vintage, etsy; gianormous flower: moi; sandals: Lucky Brand|
|Edward and Josephine Hopper in Cape Elizabeth, Maine, 1927. According to this website, this photo was snapped of the couple just three years into their marriage. When they wed, Jo was 41 and had been a successful painter in her own right. At one of her own shows, Jo recommended the work of Edward and his career took off from there. I think I'll have to do some digging to see some of the works of Jo Hopper.|
|Morning Sun, 1952. Josephine Hopper served as Edward's model. Not only did they live together, but they also worked together in their very small studio space. For that reason, they had a rather explosive relationship that often involved domestic violence. This is why hubs and I treasure our alone time. Otherwise hubs just might end up with a black eye. Again.|
|Summer Evening, 1947. Dude, you know this painting isn't realistic. I mean, c'mon, where's the bright blue bug zapper and the constant swatting away mosquitos? This looks like one of those serious "look, I'm breaking up with you" convos I heard many a summer night. Sigh.|
|Room in New York, 1932. Geez, Rear Window, anyone? I wonder if Hitchcock saw this painting before creating his 1954 classic. The vantage point and feeling of loneliness definitely reminds me of that movie.|
|Jawa Friday: Oh, don't you worry. There will be plenty of Star Wars photos to come. This here's a sneak peak. dress and hat: made by me, diy here; sandals: Chacos|
|Second Story Sunlight, 1960. Reading about Edward Hopper, I was surprised that during his career he was often compared to his contemporary Norman Rockwell. Um, no. I mean, I can appreciate the Americana portrayals by Rockwell...but that's all are: portrayals. Idealized illustrations. The difference is that Hopper seems to shine a very bright light (like, literally) on a stark and empty existence. Where, when it comes right down to it, as frightening as it may seem, all you got is you.|
|Cape Cod Morning, 1950. And who knows if that's what Hopper actually believed or intended? But the beauty of being a viewer of works of art is that you play a vital role in deciding just what a work of art is "saying." And these works by Edward Hopper speak volumes to me. What do they say to you?|