Robert Snap Spot

Tag: Pinky

  • A Memorial Alley Garden Memory

    A Memorial Alley Garden Memory

    Every city has its hidden gems – one of Savannah’s is an alley tucked away from the mainstream touristy routes. Just off Abercorn Street and around the corner from Colonial Park Cemetery lies a magical place that its residents find a cool breeze after work. Sheer intoxication of fragrance bodes relaxation amongst the floral overload that somehow absorbs the troubles of the busy day which are just past either entrance to the alley.  Never truly having the harsh light of day exposing its contents to hot Savannah, the alley envelopes those lucky few who find her in a refreshing calm most of the day.

    Ferns, flower pots, and tropical leaf plants almost hide the pale blue seats, tables and even the swinging bench that bid on-lookers a closer, deeper investigation.  Pails containing an assortment of bottled “aahhh!” are within reach of the nearest table shaded by another fern plant.  Hanging in artistic fashion, pane-less window frames allow seekers a clear view into a glimpse of an urban Eden not placed here by God but by a lovely Savannah transplant affectionately named “Pinky”. She lovingly tendsthe garden, introducing weary trespassers to her blissful corner of Savannah.


      
      

    What caught my attention as I passed the familiar respot on my way to a favorite coffee spot that morning was the symbol of our nation’s strength and freedom draped splendidly from the flowering vine and plant-laden steel catwalks of the ajoining apartment complexes which share the alley.  I had to stop as I did a double take before being drawn again to the oasis of rest I had shared with close friends and my soulmate. Morning sun rays pierced the flag’s woven polyester and nylon threads that reminded me soberly of the sacrifice given by brave men and women.  Yet that very day other Americans effortlessly, thoughtlessly, irreverently carried out their plans of backyard fun, meat-laden grilling, beer drinking and beach frolicking in the name of “Happy Memorial Day!” Happiness not earned nor in memory given to those fallen.

    Yeah, it gets my goat! But I know true service and the burden it lays upon the families of those who lost loved ones and brothers-in-arms.  As I pointed my camera upward taking the picture, I thanked God and Pinky for my Memorial Alley Garden.

    #urbanscene ##hiddengem #alley ##robertsnapspot ##mainstream #magicalplace ##magical ##floral #memorial #FOTD #Pinky ##glimpse ##Eden #garden ##blissful #MemorialDay #theFallen  
    #memorialday2023 #Honor ##Fallen ##sadness #remembrance ##tribute ##CPLPfister ##SPCWessel ##SSGDawson ##SGTDurbin ##SSGPhillipsJr ##commemorated ##SPCNorris ##ceremony ##neverforget ##redwhiteandblue ##holiday

  • Repost, Read:Pac-Man Dreams

    Repost, Read:Pac-Man Dreams

    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!

    #Blinky #CanonEOSRebelSL1 #childhood #Clyde #digital #electronic #graffiti #Inky #KrogStreetMarket #PacMan #Pinky #RepostRead #videogames #robertsnapspot #AtlantaGeorgia #ThrowbackThursday #PacManDreams

  • Urban Scene: A Memorial Alley Garden

    Urban Scene: A Memorial Alley Garden

    Every city has its hidden gems – one of Savannah’s is an alley tucked away from the mainstream touristy routes. Just off Abercorn Street and around the corner from Colonial Park Cemetery lies a magical place that its residents find a cool breeze after work. Sheer intoxication of fragrance bodes relaxation amongst the floral overload that somehow absorbs the troubles of the busy day which are just past either entrance to the alley.  Never truly having the harsh light of day exposing its contents to hot Savannah, the alley envelopes those lucky few who find her in a refreshing calm most of the day.

    Ferns, flower pots, and tropical leaf plants almost hide the pale blue seats, tables and even the swinging bench that bid on-lookers a closer, deeper investigation.  Pails containing an assortment of bottled “aahhh!” are within reach of the nearest table shaded by another fern plant.  Hanging in artistic fashion, pane-less window frames allow seekers a clear view into a glimpse of an urban Eden not placed here by God but by a lovely Savannah transplant affectionately named “Pinky”. She lovingly tendsthe garden, introducing weary trespassers to her blissful corner of Savannah.


      
      

    What caught my attention as I passed the familiar respot on my way to a favorite coffee spot that morning was the symbol of our nation’s strength and freedom draped splendidly from the flowering vine and plant-laden steel catwalks of the ajoining apartment complexes which share the alley.  I had to stop as I did a double take before being drawn again to the oasis of rest I had shared with close friends and my soulmate. Morning sun rays pierced the flag’s woven polyester and nylon threads that reminded me soberly of the sacrifice given by brave men and women.  Yet that very day other Americans effortlessly, thoughtlessly, irreverently carried out their plans of backyard fun, meat-laden grilling, beer drinking and beach frolicking in the name of “Happy Memorial Day!” Happiness not earned nor in memory given to those fallen.

    Yeah, it gets my goat! But I know true service and the burden it lays upon the families of those who lost loved ones and brothers-in-arms.  As I pointed my camera upward taking the picture, I thanked God and Pinky for my Memorial Alley Garden.

    #urbanscene #hiddengem #alley #robertsnapspot #mainstream #magicalplace #magical #floral #memorial #ferns #flowerpots #Pinky #glimpse #Eden #garden #blissful #MemorialDay #theFallen  
        

  • Pac-Man Dreams

    Pac-Man Dreams

    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!