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..?  

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)

It's often the case that after you've been sitting for a while in an(other) ATL traffic jam, the congestion suddenly (and inexplicably) begins to clear up without any sign at all of what caused the delay...  

I'm not saying that something like this causes those random traffic jams, but I'm not saying something like this doesn't cause those random traffic jams either....

Here's one of the preparatory sketches for the piece:

The finished piece is roughly 20x30 inches and was done using pencil, ink, watercolor, and gouache.