Written by Kayelyn McCaslin
A dip of the steering wheel. An unexpected two-inch drop down. A sudden slosh of hot coffee. Another Chattanooga pothole deep enough to drown a tire, and wide enough to ruin a morning. While any street in the city has its own inconvenient imperfections, some gaps are filled by something unexpected: bright yellow mosaic smiley faces, grinning up from the asphalt.
They appear subtly, often overnight, on side streets that usually don’t warrant second thought. Evenly spread throughout town, there is no rhyme or reason to the installations other than the fact that they each take the place of a pothole. But this is not the city healing broken pavement.
Instead, it is the work of a faceless mosaic artist who has sought both personal revenge and silly enjoyment by filling potholes in secret.
“I was taking my mosaic art to an art show, so my car was filled with my tent, my table, and my art. I hit a pothole on the way there,” she said. “So, I’m getting pretty good at changing tires. While I got everything out of my car, I thought, ‘Okay, I’m coming back, and I’m filling that pothole.’ That’s how they find me.”
In her first few years of living in Chattanooga, she had to purchase five new tires after enduring flat after flat from potholes. With spare mosaic tiles left over in her home studio, she decided to channel her anger at potholes into a creation. Her choice of revenge took form in the bright yellow, classic 70s smiley face.
“I wanted something graphic, bold, and bright that would kind of stand out… On Easter Sunday morning, I went out there [and] I actually brought some neighbors with me,” she said, “we swept out the pothole, we filled it, and giggled… It was just fun. I thought, ‘Okay, I got this, I’m going to do this again.’ I felt like I got a little bit of revenge.”
What began as a small act of rebellion using tiles and quick-setting concrete on Easter Sunday became an 18-month side hustle. More importantly, one smiley-filled pothole turned into seventy-five, making the mosaic motif a well-known image in the streets of Chattanooga.
“It’s strange because I’ve had people write me, and DM me… the feedback has been shocking because it is all about me, I don’t care if anybody sees it,” she said. “I think the feedback keeps me going… It just brings me such joy when people see them think that they’re quirky and fun… [But] I’m not doing any of it for recognition. I like to do it. It’s cathartic to me.”
Despite shying away from recognition, this mosaicist is applauded by Chattanoogans. Over four thousand Instagram followers keep up with her work, and use her Google Maps to track surrounding installations. Some share their discoveries of new smileys on social media, tagging @potholes_of_chattanooga with a thank you note. Others have managed to find her in the act of cementing, stopping to say, “‘Hey! Thank you, we’ve been trying to get that fixed for years!’” she said.
Yet, she is completely certain of maintaining her anonymity. “I’m too old for attention-getting behavior; it’s not that at all. I really have a good time doing it,” she said. It’s not for virality, and it’s definitely not for commission. In fact, she said that the day she receives a phone call along the lines of “‘Hey, can you do my logo?’ or ‘Can you do the one in front of my Mom’s house?’” she would likely stop. Not only being discovered but also being hired to continue her daytime hobby would drain the pothole-fills of their silly mystique.
For her, it’s a personal project. Part mischievous, part meditative. Potholes have become her method of expression, a subtle way of leaving her mark and, unintentionally, a positive impact on passersby. In Chattanooga, she’s one of a few nameless artists who leave their flair out in public.
“We have some delightful artists in town who are very similar. The benches, the affirmation signs on cardboard throughout town, even Olivia Reckert,” she said. “I think we all express ourselves in unique ways, that’s just my expression.”
The smiley faces aren’t just signatures. They’re quiet expressions of presence. This mosaicist is now branching out to more symbols: Morse code, birds, and messages. Her pieces adapt to their areas, whether it’s near a college campus or in a theater parking lot.
“I started with smileys, and I’m doing different things,” she said. “One of my favorites is on the UTC campus at Palmetto and Oak St, at a crosswalk. In subway tile, it says ‘CALL YO MAMA’”
Kind reminders tucked into broken asphalt. Surprising bursts of color in a river of dark. Steady displays of light-hearted rebellion against a hole in the road. Chattanooga potholes have become an unexpected canvas in the hands of this mosaicist. She continues to leave smileys and notes without a trace, and yet what she’s truly leaving is a simple, stubborn joy around town.