The electronic realm is slowly bleeding over into our reality.
One day while walking thought Inman Park, Atlanta, I saw what could only be a ghost! No, it was three! The figures seemed to hover and dance in mid air, but as I got closer, they were dancing on what was left of a brick wall.
Now standing immediately in front this wall, I realized this was another form of graffiti art that could be found all over Atlanta. This particular street artist adorned his work with hundreds of tiny square mirrors that reflected sunlight at different angles which produced the illusion of movement.
Anyone older than 30 should remember the gaming sensation Pac Man. Created in 1980, I loved playing this game, which should give my readers a rough estimate of my age. This electronic arcade style game became a worldwide fascination as millions stood in front of arcade machines trying frantically to beat the current high score. With the advent of home gaming systems, Pac Mac and his friends followed us home to our living rooms.
Playing the game was like this: I would spend hours racing around a maze chomping yellow dots, chasing bouncing fruit, all while avoiding 4 wobbly, floating ghosts which were in hot pursuit. If they catch you… “Game Over!”
Not to be forgotten, this public work of art prominently featured those ghosts that tirelessly guarded their digital home, the maze. Pinky, Blinky, Inky and Clyde were seen as the tyrants keeping poor old Pac Man from reaching his goal, maze domination. One mysterious unnamed ghostly figure had not yet materialized on the wall.
Now personally I liked this homage to a part of my childhood being displayed this way but not everyone thinks like me. For as I was standing in the dirt parking lot taking pictures from every angle, a gentleman just emerging from his parked car approached me expressing his take on the art.
This brick wall was situated at the end of a dirt parking lot adjacent to Krog Street Market. A repurposed steel mill warehouse now the hip gathering place for craft beers, burgers and sushi, even fine dining with outside seating under cool patio lighting. This guy did not appreciate a random “street punk,” as he put it, ruining the character of the space as many other artists had done throughout the city.
I let him rant because we all are entitled to our own interpretations of art, yet I feel he was missing the spirit these not so digital ghosts represented.
Maybe he could not access the childhood dreams that link us to our younger selves. Not striving or working hard to pay the mortgage, cell phone and dining tab…”check please!“
Maybe it was more about being a kid maneuvering through an electronic maze, chasing that damn bouncing fruit as Clyde, Blinky, Pinky and Inky blocked your every move, thus preparing you for adulthood.
Thank you anonymous graffiti artist, I miss my Pac Man dreams!
There are still a few things that happen these days that make you wonder.
After a great brunch at one of our favorite breakfast hangouts in Atlanta, a stroll around the neighborhood was in order to settle grub we just had. As I crossed the road to access one of the abundant foot paths and looked back, I saw something that caught my eye. Too interested now I needed to brave the traffic and “snap” a shot of this possible road kill. Nothing gory at first glance. After several cars wizzed by, I moved in closer. Alas, poor Barbie! The pressures of life, of being a plastic role model for so many young impressionable girls and being sought after by collectors of vintage toys, I guess Barbie could take no more.
She lost her head!
Or maybe little brother tossed the head of his sister’s favorite doll out the car window.
The electronic realm is slowly bleeding over into our reality.
One day while walking thought Inman Park, Atlanta, I saw what could only be a ghost! No, it was three! The figures seemed to hover and dance in mid air, but as I got closer, they were dancing on what was left of a brick wall.
Now standing immediately in front this wall, I realized this was another form of graffiti art that could be found all over Atlanta. This particular street artist adorned his work with hundreds of tiny square mirrors that reflected sunlight at different angles which produced the illusion of movement.
Anyone older than 30 should remember the gaming sensation Pac Man. Created in 1980, I loved playing this game, which should give my readers a rough estimate of my age. This electronic arcade style game became a worldwide fascination as millions stood in front of arcade machines trying frantically to beat the current high score. With the advent of home gaming systems, Pac Mac and his friends followed us home to our living rooms.
Playing the game was like this: I would spend hours racing around a maze chomping yellow dots, chasing bouncing fruit, all while avoiding 4 wobbly, floating ghosts which were in hot pursuit. If they catch you… “Game Over!”
Not to be forgotten, this public work of art prominently featured those ghosts that tirelessly guarded their digital home, the maze. Pinky, Blinky, Inky and Clyde were seen as the tyrants keeping poor old Pac Man from reaching his goal, maze domination. One mysterious unnamed ghostly figure had not yet materialized on the wall.
Now personally I liked this homage to a part of my childhood being displayed this way but not everyone thinks like me. For as I was standing in the dirt parking lot taking pictures from every angle, a gentleman just emerging from his parked car approached me expressing his take on the art.
This brick wall was situated at the end of a dirt parking lot adjacent to Krog Street Market. A repurposed steel mill warehouse now the hip gathering place for craft beers, burgers and sushi, even fine dining with outside seating under cool patio lighting. This guy did not appreciate a random “street punk,” as he put it, ruining the character of the space as many other artists had done throughout the city.
I let him rant because we all are entitled to our own interpretations of art, yet I feel he was missing the spirit these not so digital ghosts represented.
Maybe he could not access the childhood dreams that link us to our younger selves. Not striving or working hard to pay the mortgage, cell phone and dining tab…”check please!”
Maybe it was more about being a kid maneuvering through an electronic maze, chasing that damn bouncing fruit as Clyde, Blinky, Pinky and Inky blocked your every move, thus preparing you for adulthood.
Thank you anonymous graffiti artist, I miss my Pac Man dreams!
There are still a few things that happen these days that make you wonder.
After a great brunch at one of our favorite breakfast hangouts in Atlanta, a stroll around the neighborhood was in order to settle grub we just had. As I crossed the road to access one of the abundant foot paths and looked back, I saw something that caught my eye. Too interested now I needed to brave the traffic and “snap” a shot of this possible road kill. Nothing gory at first glance. After several cars wizzed by, I moved in closer. Alas, poor Barbie! The pressures of life, of being a plastic role model for so many young impressionable girls and being sought after by collectors of vintage toys, I guess Barbie could take no more.
She lost her head!
Or maybe little brother tossed the head of his sister’s favorite doll out the car window.
