Hannah Russell is a Marketing Assistant at Lane College and freelance photographer in Jackson, focusing her creative efforts primarily in portrait and studio photography. As a recent graduate of Union University’s art program, she is continually discovering how to transform the everyday person into the most interesting of subjects through her attention to composition and form. “Photography for me is kind of like an adventure. It’s a very curious and exploratory activity; a search for the best composition."

A.M. Creative Recap: Sierra Owens-Hughes

With spring upon us and workshop season now in sight, there is much to look forward to at theCO in addition to the constant buzzing that is brought about from our weekly meetups and get-togethers. In anticipation of next week’s gathering, A.M. Creative, we recall gleanings from February’s edition of the event which took on a new look, as the meetup tailored for artisans and patrons moved from the traditional early morning convening to an afternoon lunch hour that proved to be exceedingly popular.

A Conversation With: Andrew Peterson

A husband of twenty-one years and the father of three teens, Andrew Peterson is a Christian singer-songwriter and author based out of Nashville, Tennessee. Since moving there from the homeland he lovingly calls "redneck Florida," Andrew has produced seventeen albums and written a four-part book series, The Wingfeather Saga. The Star Center has the joy of welcoming Andrew to Jackson this Saturday, February 20, for a concert at Fellowship Bible Church benefiting their Literacy Lab scholarships.

A.M. Creative Recap: Chris Nadaskay

Christopher Nadaskay is the University Professor of Art at Union University and an artist focusing primarily on mixed-media, using a variety of materials and textures in his exploration of cultural critiques and societal legacies. As a self-proclaimed science-fiction fan, Nadaskay often incorporates aspects of the genre’s futuristic musings into his conviction-fueled paintings and sculptures.

Concrete Ain't Cuttin' It

The pine trees towered over us, swaying precariously in the winds high above, but down on the pine needle-laden ground my boys and I hardly felt the gusts. Besides, we were hard at work and couldn’t be bothered with the weather. We had gathered pieces of mostly rotting wood with plans to erect a grand establishment: a place that would say, “We were here, and we did something great.”