Jeff Epstein, Bent Cage, oil on panel, 14 x 12 in., 2019.
One spring, I replaced my mangled tomato cages with larger and sturdier versions. I stuck this one in the ground behind the shed while I decided what to do with it. Over the summer, I came to appreciate the volume described by the wires and the easy way the flowers accepted its presence and carried on with their usual life cycle around it. The light on the spent flower heads made a striking contrast with the weathered wood of the shed.
Jeff Epstein, Night Grill with Garden Hose, oil on panel, 14 x 12 in., 2019.
Friends were visiting so I had hauled out my little-used grill for the occasion. It remained in my dooryard for a long time after they left, partially out of laziness, but also because it reminded me of our very nice visit. The garden hose was piled up nearby, out of the lawnmower’s way. I liked the way the hose, legs of the grill and trellis related to each other. Seeing them at night, I thought it was interesting that such common and useful items, seen “after-hours” and emerging from the darkness, could appear almost sinister.
Jeff Epstein, Young Plume Poppy, oil on panel, 13 x 11.25 in., 2021.
This plant came up on its own between my bulkhead and the pavers of the garden path. I accidentally stepped on it, so I used the wire support to straighten it up and to remind myself not to step on it again. I liked the way the curved wire echoed the scalloped edge of the paver and contrasted with the organic plant forms.