“Hey, Sloane’s mom …”
It’s a chorus I hear every Wednesday in the lunchroom at my child’s elementary school.
“Hey, Sloane’s mom, how do you spell I cup?”
“Sloane’s mom! I got all my math problems right!”
This week marked the last Wednesday I will ever hear that sweet symphony of second grade soundbites.

The removal of the blue awning at The Arts Center has left a gap in its chalky metal-clad façade. Peeking through this gap is the building’s original brick – a dirty yellow – and, in a deep hunter green, the crossbar of the letter “H,” the bottom half of a lowercased “a” and swash of a lowercased “r.” It’s the hand painted sign denoting the proprietor of the market for which this building was built; Harrod.

I skipped Junior Prom for my first musical festival. Since that May awakening I’ve taken advantage of every opportunity to attend music festivals and am incredibly fortunate to have experienced three in the last year. This annum of music ventures has been doubly special as I have introduced three of my dearest friends, my husband, and my daughter to this tradition I cherish so.
I’ve already written articles on Jenny’s first festival and our family trip to Railbird, so my focus today is on this past weekend at Moon River in Chattanooga.

“Rochambeau Drawings 2012-2013” is a collection of drawings by Athens artist. Jan Burleson. In honor of the artist’s first solo show, and in the spirit of dreamers everywhere, I’d like to share again her story, as printed in this publication on May 31, 2017:
Jan Burleson, a local artist, has a piece in Knoxville’s Dogwood Arts Exhibition.

Braces-clad and enthusiastic. That was me in 2001 during the first ever “Evening with the Stars,” a fundraiser for Athens Area Council for the Arts. I was a ninth grader at Athens Junior High School and, along with my girlfriends in Mrs. Pam Wilburn’s chorus, box-stepped and belted my heart out. By that point I had performed in ten dance recitals and nearly as many theatre camp shows, but something was different about that performance. My friends and I performed two ensemble numbers for a crowd of hundreds and were exhilarated. Performing choreography honed over many weeks and harmonizing under stage lights left us feeling like a Broadway company. We were proud to display our talents alongside highschoolers we equated to rockstars and adults who performed like professionals.

There are earworms and then there are earwords. Don’t try to use that second word in Scrabble, but the first will pass. I’m a student of literature with a fondness for words and a tendency to wax philosophical within the confines of my own mind. So, “earword” is a term I’m using to describe a personal phenomenon.

“Tell us about a treasure of art or culture that you are most proud of in your town and why?” queries the first in an interview list for an upcoming video shoot. If you know me, or have read even one of my articles, you likely know my answer.

My daughter is a neologist. It was at dinner one evening when it occurred to me there may be some brilliance shrouded in her linguistic stumbles. “Daddy’s hair is brack,” she asserted.

Confession: In the days leading up to Monday’s astronomical phenomenon, I was a Totality Grinch. My irritation reached a climax about 9am at Ingles.

Nestled between Interstate 75 and the production facilities of DENSO Manufacturing Athens Tennessee (DMAT) and MIDLAB is an 11.5 acre EcoPark. The green space is surprisingly serene for its proximity to a heavily trafficked roadway and offers walking trails, a quiet pond, botanical education, and a majestic pavilion.

If you've not been to Tennessee Wesleyan University's newly renovated Reece Hall (known to many as "the old Post Office Building"), go. And go by Aug. 10, when the current exhibition closes. Visiting is a treat in itself as the university and fine arts staff have preserved the historic architecture of the space and enhanced the building with furniture and materials clearly selected with an artist's eye.

Bob tells me he’s been watching Ken Burns and I hope he’s about to pitch me on a “Jazz age” theatre camp. I’m pretty confident it won’t be about the Civil War, and baseball seems equally unlikely. So, I daydream a Satchmo trumpet riff and start thinking about logos.

If you, your child, or your grandchild, graduated McMinn County High School in the years surrounding 2004, there’s no question about it: you know Mrs. Kay Frank. Perhaps you remember the fortune-telling Madame, the tall-telling yarn-spinner, the jolliest of Santa’s elves, or the enthusiastic walk-a-thon cheerleader. Mrs. Kay has played many roles, all centered around a common theme – to nurture and inspire children.

I’ve known Dave Siklosi all my life. He’s been a fixture in – and has built fixtures for – Athens CommunityTheatre (ACT) as long as I can remember and, in fact, as long as the volunteer theatre troupe has existed. It never occurred to me, though, to ask him how he got his start.

One blustery spring day in 2004, I was walking to my World Drama class at Queens University of Charlotte, while chatting with my dad on my flip phone. He had just visited a building Athens Area Council for the Arts was considering as a permanent home. An Arts Center? My mind reeled at the possibilities such a place would unfold for “little ole” Athens. I was earning a degree in the Queens City while the AACA Board, Capital Campaign, and Arts Center Building committees worked tirelessly to breathe life into the dream to provide our community a creative home.