I get asked all the time why I paint Waffle Houses.
My answer is: Why not?
I know I’m not the first person to immortalize Waffle Houses on canvas, but I can honestly say nobody sees them the same way I do.
Waffle House is one of those modern-day icons that pepper the American landscape. It is a place where love begins and ends, both commonplace and weird things happen, and where many a fight begins and ends. In short, it’s a place where both food and memories are made.
Initially, my first Waffle House painting began as a birthday gift to my oldest son. It is of a Waffle House sign somewhere off I-40 in Arkansas. I saw the sign rising among the foliage while pumping gas and snapped a photo of it to text to my oldest son. Jeff loves him some Waffle House. Give him a plateful of loaded hash browns and he is in nirvana. When I returned to Tennessee after that trip to Texas, I sat down and painted a picture of the Waffle House sign for my son’s birthday gift. It’s not my best painting, but it’s the thought that counts and my son loves it. I have since learned to leave out utility poles and wires, which can trash up a landscape painting.
That is how it all began.
Then I had a dream. I heard a voice tell me to create a series of Waffle House paintings. Who am I to argue? So, I got busy. I have painted several and look forward to painting many more. “If You Build It, They Will Come” began when I salvaged a canvas from a painting I had trashed. It started out as a road to nowhere and then became a road to somewhere: a Waffle House utopia in a lush landscape void of utility poles. Then, I dreamed that I should open the clouds and have God rays shining down upon a Waffle House. As I edited the painting, I thought wouldn’t it be fun if I added a spaceship. After all, aliens only wish they had a Waffle House.
Waffle House is not just another greasy spoon, however. It deserves to be immortalized because it is always there for us, no matter what: It is open 24/7, 365 days a year, even on Christmas Day. There is the Waffle House Index, a former FEMA executive coined the term and it has since become an informal measure of a storm’s severity. If a Waffle House should ever close, you know a storm is going to be horrendous. Waffle House may close for a little while, but it opens as soon as possible to serve its community with a limited menu. Even in the roughest disasters, Waffle House is there.
I draw inspiration from every Waffle House I see. I am always snapping photos with my cell phone camera of various Waffle House signs and stores. Friends also send me photos they take. I have a whole file of reference photos now. My most popular Waffle House painting is of a Nashville store in the Bellevue neighborhood, which I painted off a photo a friend took when he was stopped at a traffic light. Another popular painting, is looking up at the entrance of that same store. At present, my new favorite is a work-in-progress of a Panama City, Florida, Waffle House that a friend who is a tanker driver took while he was filling up at a truckstop. That one will be epic, I promise. (Just before publishing time, she finished and sent it to us. So here it is, and also in the flipbook. And yes, it is indeed epic -Ed.)
People have offered to buy my Waffle House paintings, but I don’t sell them even though I am the typical starving artist. I simply cannot afford a lawsuit with the company accusing me of profiting off its brand. Now, if the company were to hire me as its official painter, I might be persuaded.
I also draw inspiration from the food and memories. My favorite memory is when a co-worker at the newspaper where I worked in Nashville asked me out for coffee after work one night in 2000 so we could discuss music. Perry Baggs not only worked in the library there but also was the drummer for a cowpunk band of some notoriety, Jason and the Scorchers. Perry asked if I had ever written any lyrics, so I recited a few verses for him. Perry was a quick study and immediately started drumming an up-tempo beat on the table with a couple of knives, singing my words in his raspy, rock-star voice. A hush fell over the restaurant and diners broke out in applause. It was one of those only-in-Nashville moments. Someday, I may recreate that scene on canvas as a memorial to my friend Perry, who passed away at age 50 in 2012.
Yes, Waffle House is the stuff of which paintings should be made.
Eileen Sisk is an artist, author, veteran journalist, and songwriter. She now lives in Luling, Texas, and is the author of BUCK OWENS: The Biography (Chicago Review Press, 2010) and HONKY-TONKS: Guide to Country Dancin’ and Romancin’ (Harper Collins West, 1995). A yet-to-be published book, ALCOHOL AND TEARS: The True Story of the Life and Death of Singer Jeanie O’Neal, co-written by Dr. Melissa J. O’Neal and Eileen Sisk, won first place in the General Nonfiction category in the Writers League of Texas 2024 Manuscript Contest. For more information, visit http://eileensisk.com.