Nighthawks

Nighthawks, painted by Edward Hopper, makes me stop and think every time I see it.

The painting features four people sitting in a diner. It is quiet, both in terms of the number of people and the objects around. There are a few salt shakers and napkin racks. There are two coffee pots. The diner has tall windows. Outside the diner is a street. There are no people around. It is dark, with the light of the diner illuminating the scene; both indoors aand outdoors.

I wonder: who are the people in the painting? What are there stories? There is one male patron who is dressed well and keeping to himself. I imagine he is a businessperson who has had a tiring day. He is having some alone time before he goes home and sleeps. There is a couple sitting next to each other. Their hands are close but they feel somewhat distant. Perhaps they are both tired after a busy day, having discussed everything they had on their minds; quiet is what they may desire.

The anxious part of me feels slightly on-edge trying to picture myself in the diner. I would probably struggle to sit in a diner with such open windows. I would worry about who could see from outside the building; whether people were questioning me. Although, I do envision myself taking up a seat in the diner if there were people around who could make me feel more comfortable. I would want to ask them questions about their days; what brought them to the diner. I would want to bring light to the room, supplementing the artificial light in the room.

Despite the windows being tall and clear, inviting transparency, we cannot know for sure who is in the diner or why. What brought everyone to the diner at that time? There is so much room for interpretation.

There is one member of staff, occupied with his job. It is unclear what he is doing, his hands and arms hidden by the counter. Indeed, the building is transparent but not everything is clear. Our perspective, seeing the diner from the outside, only gives so much information. To really learn about a place -- a person -- you need to be up close; through being close one connects with the world around. The same is true in language, too. This is why I am often hesitant to use "one" in my writing. It implies distance. Whereas, to use the last example, "being close connects us to the world around" feels more personal.

Nobody looks happy in the painting. I wonder why.