I love how still, lifeless objects can take on a persona and play a human role. Sometimes, in Hopper’s paintings, objects stand in for people; a barber pole, roof top chimneys, even some of his houses feel like sturdy New England gentlemen.
The other day I passed a simply exhausted newspaper box . . . its’ door swung open off its’ hinges and its’ newspapers spilling out of its’ mouth.
This little “R2 Unit”, the one with the white cap held on by a rubber band, is the star of my composition. It’s a jar of chicken fat that has been unsuccessfully smuggled into Canada. His buddy, the dried sausage, was caught too.
