Hopper's Nighthawk

My last art class was in elementary school- I have always been a bank geek, and perhaps always will be. I remember looking at countless lilies by Monet, and wondering why we were supposed to be fascinated by dots that form shapes which give way to images. A lot of repetitive questions were asked: "How does it make you feel?"; "Why are the colour choices so?"; and "What is the role of contrast?". Back then I had difficulties interpreting those questions, and try as I might, I always fail to provide the answers my teacher wants. Maybe Monet had troubles focusing and to him his paintings were like anyone else's.

Wrong.

We were always told to "Think like the artist". I never understood what that meant; does my teacher actually believe that I can think like a middle aged white male at the age of 12? Needless to say, I never done well in Arts.

In high school, some of the humanities courses would ask to interpret pictures or diagrams, and with me, they were often hit or miss. I still try to evaluate pictures sometimes, but they are often more like criticizing the Chemical reaction clouds in my sociology text.

Then a friend linked me to this picture, Hopper's Nighthawk. Instantly, I got it.

Loneliness.

Seconds later I felt like crying. I didn't need to put myself into Hopper's shoes; I've worn them my whole life to the point where the soles are all but gone. The colours? dark, amorphous. The contrasts? my guy versus the couple, and even then, the couple aren't that happy.

A few seconds after that, I was back to Chemistry.