Sometime around 1996 or 1997, when I was living in Stuttgart, Germany, I first heard the song "Elevators" by the Atlanta based hip-hop duo known as Outkast.  In this song, there's a lyric that mentions riding something called "MARTA".  At the time, I had no idea what they were talking about (a not unusual occurrence;  I often had no idea what Outkast was talking about).  It wasn't until more than a decade later, when I first moved to Atlanta, that I learned "MARTA" refers to the Metropolitan Atlanta Rapid Transit Authority (also affectionately known by the locals as Moving Africans Rapidly Through Atlanta); Atlanta's public bus/train system.  

Occasionally, whilst riding MARTA, you may happen to be riding in the same compartment as that girl.  You know the one.  Indie songwriters who pretend to have no success with females sing and write about her all the time.  She's pretty and well-dressed but not so well-dressed as to be above the pay grade of a man who perhaps has a less-than-reliable vehicle and finds himself at the mercy of MARTA's schedule when he needs to get from point A to point B.

She can look like this:

...or like this...

...or this...

You find yourself stealing glances in her direction on the off-chance that you'll catch her eye in yours.  You look...

...then you look away...

...then you look...

...then you look away...

...back and forth and back and forth...

Until finally, in a moment of self-awareness, your thoughts say something along the lines of, "I'm too old for this kind of childish nonsense.  I'm going to go say "hi"."  But you never actually say "hi" or anything else.  And when you take that final glance, she's leaving and her stop is never your stop.

If this were a movie and you were the debonair everyman, you'd get off too (even though your stop is miles away) and you'd pretend you were going in the same direction.  Then you'd say something incredibly clever and spark the beginnings of a quirky yet successful relationship.

This, however, is not a movie and (because you have no interest in being tased or maced as a suspected stalker) you get off at your own stop and walk the half mile or so to your job where you clock in to start another day of toilsome labor.

And you'd probably spend the day thinking about her if there weren't more important things crowding your thoughts.  Like, for example, the fact that the Hawks were unceremoniously eliminated from the playoffs by a nearly decrepit squad of old men from Boston.  I went to game 2 at Phillips Arena, the game the Hawks needed to win (the game where Ray Allen AND Rajon Rondo were out with an injury and a suspension respectively) and there were more Boston fans in the house than there were Atlanta fans.  Horrible.

  

Now that the Hawks are gone, I suppose I'll pull for the Oklahoma City Thunder.  Not that I have any special ties to OKC (actually, I think I have a sister that lives out there...), I just think I ought to support Kevin Durant, one of the few remaining ectomorphs allowed to play in the NBA.  

...is today Mother's Day..?  

Here's a quick sketch of a hipster playing a banjo.  I once had a roommate who played the banjo.  He looks nothing like this guy.

Here's a Chris Sanders (the guy behind the look of Lilo and Stitch, the most unique Disney film I've ever seen) inspired ink drawing from one of my older sketchbooks.  I added watercolor to it last week.

Ink on pastel paper (with a touch of chalk).  A woman plays tennis with an 6-armed, four legged ox-like catfish monster using frying pans and eggs.

I wonder, from time to time, what  a psychiatrist would make of my sketchbooks...

Medicine For Melancholy is a film about two desperately lonely people who come together during a night of drunken excess and hope to alleviate the loneliness they feel by getting to know one another during the course of the following day.  It takes place on the west coast in Northern California (San Francisco) but it looks and feels like something from the French New Wave of the 1960s.  Visually, it's muted and nearly black and white.

After I watched it the first time, I played it through again and did some sketches of the leads, Wyatt Cenac and Tracey Heggins.  Here are a few of the more presentable sketches...

I had a few different ideas for what might make a good poster (the scene with the carousel is especially impressive; I also wanted to include the odd-looking party host with the shorts who appears briefly at the beginning of the movie) and I decided to keep it simple and go with the bicycles.

Cheers.

About a month or so ago I saw Tracy McGrady in the CVS Pharmacy on Peachtree and Brighton across the street from Piedmont Hospital.

It took me a second before I realized that the man in the gigantic black t-shirt walking towards me down the aisle was, in fact, the legendary Tracy McGrady, but as soon as I did I was immediately inclined to approach him and share a few intelligent words.

Instead of bothering him I played it cool (as I am wont to do) and walked past him as if he was just a regular person.  It occurred to me that Tracy McGrady is likely one of the millions of people around the world who compulsively check my blog and website each day to see if I've posted any new artwork.  He was probably more surprised to see me than I was to see him.

However, it was in that moment that I decided I ought to be an Atlanta Hawks fan.  Afterall, I've been living in Atlanta for several years now and this is the first time I've ever lived in a city with an NBA franchise.  The Hawks aren't exactly inspiring, but they're a solid band of ball players with one or two standouts... Josh Smith,  of course... Jeff Teague has lately been impressive... the indefatigable Zaza Pachulia...  Heck, last year they swept Dwight Howard and his Orlando Magic right out of the playoffs.  

...as a matter of fact, last year I saw Patrick Ewing walking across the street downtown at Peachtree and Ellis; the Ritz Carlton.  He walked with the exact same gait as the bigfoot in that famous Patterson videotape.  At the time, Ewing was some kind of special big man coach for Howard.  I was about to say something to him...

...but I decided against it.  He's probably a fan of my work too and I didn't feel like signing any autographs.

(no NBA players were harmed in the creation of this blog post)

The graphic novella collection I've been working on (still tentatively titled Green Eyes, Dark Hair, And Sensible Shoes) is littered with colorfully absurd characters.  Here are three of the character designs from two of the novellas... 

...watercolor and ink sketch of a character from The Story of Carlos.

Progression from pencil sketch to watercolor and ink illustration of a pivotal character from Ike's Halloween...

Happy Sunday, folks!  Thanks for checking in on the Creekification Blog, your official source for all news regarding the creative efforts of Yours Truly.

Happy Easter.

For this week's posting, I've decided to go with two sketchbook images.  In this first drawing, an angel has a dispute with St. Thomas over the contents of his gospel account and, because he fails to compromise, The Gospel of St. Thomas is ultimately regarded as heretical.

 St. Thomas is modeled after Fillippino Lippi's The Vision of St Bernard, which I've pasted below.

If you'll look closely, you'll notice Lippi's version doesn't have an ostrich.  Mine does.

This second drawing is of a girl (her pose was swiped from an old magazine image of a ballet dancer), a rooster, and a brood of chicks.

Chickens have been turning up in my sketchbook quite a bit lately and it's because I'm working on a project that revolves around the exploits of an ancient band of chickens.  I can't say more than that at the moment...

My contribution to the exhibition is a short, six page story about a pile of rocks that comes to life and seeks out a place for itself in the wider world.  It's meant to be blunt and stark, like a story from the Old Testament.

I think it would be impossible for anyone to adequately translate Invisible Man into a film, but I made this movie poster for it anyway because there was a section of my living room wall that needed something original.

That marionette sitting in the shadows is one of the Sambo dolls Brother Clifton is selling on the street just before he's killed by the police.  Look, I even put together a fake cast list with Spike Lee as director.

John Gardner's Grendel, an existential retelling of the Beowulf story from the monster's perspective, is another one of my favorites.  This one would probably not work as a motion picture either (there was a weird animated version, featuring the voice of Peter Ustinov as Grendel, that got a few things right...) but I made it into a poster as well.  I did not hang this one in my apartment; it's a bit too grim to use as decoration.

I suppose the fact that Grendel's detached arm is featured on the poster is a spoiler, but most people already know that things don't end well for Grendel, the antagonistic protagonist...

And I close this weekly blog with a sketch of Yoda as Bruce Lee.

Like water, be.

"Please, Mr. Creekmore!!  We need more of those whimsical, charming images from your sketchbook!  They fill our lives with meaning and give us a reason to look forward to each Sunday when we can depend on you to post something extraordinary on the creekification.com blog!"  This is what I've been hearing from the countless fans who approach me each day as I try (in vain) to live a normal, unassuming life.  I hear you, admirers, and I respond with this:

A bearded baboon goblin dancing with two of his acquaintances (executed in pencil, ink, and chalk on blue pastel paper) created this past week.