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“Acting” in this case has a dual meaning. First, it means acting as in “the art or occupation of performing.” I’m playing pretend! I have some experience acting, but only time will tell how well I pull off this role. Second, it means acting as in “temporarily doing the duties of another person,” because we hope to find someone with a more robust publishing background to join us in this endeavor. Now that I’ve aired my insecurities, it is my pleasure to introduce you to the prototype issue of Apparitions. This is a very exciting time for the arts in Texoma, and we hope to be a big part of that by shining a spotlight in celebration of what regional artists are doing. We also hope this journal becomes something you look forward to seeing. For many, the arts represent a transcendent vacation from daily life. It is our hope to give you the gift of a delightful and provocative vacation a few times a year. Thank you for joining us. If you have ideas or are interested in participating, please let us know.

With excitement,

Jared Tredway {Acting} Editor Apparitions jared@jaredtredway.com

ap·pa·ri·tion noun (plural noun: apparitions) a ghost or ghostlike image synonyms: phantom, spirit, vision the appearance of something remarkable or unexpected synonyms: appearance, manifestation, emergence

Ghost Town Walks by Shannon Orr Courtesy of the artist



ghost town

Hoover, Tredway and DiVine at the Call and Response reception

Dr. Peter Anderson and Jared Tredway taking in an image at a FOCUS Forum

Mixed-media collage with Sandra Simmons

Kids’ collage with Dr. Jean Roelke

Jim Holmes, Shannon Orr, Sandra Simmons, and Jean Roelke on a Downtown Sherman photo walk

Reception welcoming Bo Huff

JOHN WEST John Richard West is a former feed mill worker, reference librarian, and library director. He has written some autobiographical pieces which can be read online at the Portal to Texas History in “More Texas Family Secrets” and in ”Remembering School Days”. His poetry has been published in Suspension, “Death, or Something Similar” issue, Spring 08-09. He was born on the island of Montreal, but has spent most of his life in the United States. He lives in north Texas with his wife, two cats, and three dogs.

JEAN ROELKE Jean Roelke is a poet and visual artist whose work focuses on language and the relationships between word and image. Her work has been exhibited locally and regionally. She currently teaches writing and literature at the University of North Texas, where she is also studying sculpture.

SHANNON ORR Shannon Orr is from Sherman, TX where she runs her bakery Twelve Eleven Bakery. She has always enjoyed writing and began actively pursuing photography in 2018. She enjoys taking photos of nature while on adventures with her family as well as creating surrealism photography and combining it with her poetry.

JARED TREDWAY Jared Tredway grew up in Fannin County and studied architecture at Texas A&M. He’s been a part of the Sherman community since 2004, and in 2016 he founded the Tredway Workshop, a multidisciplinary design build firm focused on modernist residences and boutique commercial projects. He joined the Ghost Town Arts Collective in 2019 and he is excited to be a part of its growth.

















best seller fiction by John West


oan looked at the podium where her husband would soon stand to accept the adulation of the crowd gathered in the college’s auditorium. Someone, she assumed in the Development office, had printed large poster-sized pictures and placed them in the space so that there was no where you could sit without seeing Derek’s pose, an eyebrow cocked, a slight smile, but those radiantly blue eyes, appearing to hold within them benevolence and thoughtfulness. On the back cover of his novel, which they were gathered to celebrate, he had a similar look but he was holding his glasses, as though making an important point. Joan knew that the look was actually of a man who was terribly near-sighted, who without those very same glasses could barely function in the world. And, of all things, that morning, after making his tiresomely usual breakfast - two slices of crisp bacon, half a slice of whole wheat toast dry, not a touch of butter, poached egg and a small orange juice, squeezed out by her – he’d asked her to sit several seats to the left of center. “But, I always sit directly in front of you. You told me that my presence there was always a comfort to you, especially when you removed your glasses to make a point, that I was there supporting you, you knew I was there.” Derek removed his glasses, tapped his teeth with an earpiece, “Joan, I’ve been told that there will be members of the media from Atlanta, as well as the locals and the college P. R. office, and the president, even some board members making the trip, and well, I have been advised, um, well, that they might take up most of the front row. And you know how important this is, I mean, it’s been at least a dozen years since my last short story was published and twenty since the novel. Um, this could take me as far as I hoped, you know that word around is I’ll be the next dean because of this, but there is more, much more.” “Don’t you mean what we have worked for, Derek? Do you really think I enjoyed playing the young faculty wife currying favor with the wives of the tenured faculty, the bloody Campus Club! But I knew their good words on your behalf were as important as your teaching evaluations.” She could feel the surge of blood heating her face, as she tried to control her voice so it wouldn’t climb to a higher register or begin to



quaver, but dammit! She knew what he’d told her wasn’t the case, but rather that she didn’t look the part of the celebrity’s wife. What was it, oh, yes, he was imperially slim. Manicured, lightly tanned, and his clothes, off the rack, but they fit as though tailored to him. She had tried, God knows, she tried. Dieting, Pilates, yoga - Hell, she’d even gone so far as to have a parasite inserted in her gut so she would lose the weight that inevitably surrounded her belly and pillowed her thighs. Tanning never worked, blotches instead, and even the spray-on stuff quickly turned from bronze to sallow. “Joan, it isn’t me, you know I want you right there where you always are, but um, the president, board members, and so forth, I mean, this could put us, yes, you are right, us, where we should be, should have been. Please, please, Do this for me, for us!” Of course, she’d say yes. She knew he knew she’d say yes. When he took her hand in both of his, there was still a flutter. How could she still have these feelings for him? But there they were. From that first day of his poetry class, she knew she wanted him. He was just thirty and she was twenty. He was not as polished as he is now, she thought, that had been her doing. She still remembered the sound of his voice, the smile, and yes, when he took off his glasses, to swing them back and forth from the temple piece, so engaged in explaining the deeper meaning behind Sandburg’s “Fog”. Who else knew its relation to Eliot’s “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock”? As it turned out, no one else, but she wouldn’t know that for many years to come. She made sure he sparkled and she made sure that those envious, bitchy wives of his colleagues, knew she was in charge. Perhaps had they had children. That discussion was another humiliation she had to bear. Her sister had asked her once about why they didn’t have kids, and she finally broke down and told her. “There are fertility doctors, aren’t there who could help you with this,” her sister said, though her sister, who was the proud mother of four, had been quite surprised by the admission. “We’ve gone to fertility doctors, we timed my cycle and had sex accordingly. We made sure he wore loose crotch-fitting pants, and he stopped bicycling for six months, no hot tubs, even. Nothing worked and he refused to adopt.” “Joanie, what is the matter, I mean, Derek looks in peak health. I wish Sean looked near as good as Derek, but he likes his beer a bit too much. I saw on TV that there were, you know, vitamins or supplements you could take.” “Beth, it’s Derek. His sperm count is very low. I know, I can tell from the look on your face, but it’s true. My six foot, blond god, essentially shoots blanks. And, unfortunately,


I’ve inherited Aunt Lucinda’s build, or the one she had when she turned forty. Y’know Beth, you’re the only person I can talk with about this. Derek’s parents are gone; Dad’s in a vegetative state and Mom’s finding it increasingly difficult to cope. I dare not say anything to anyone here. The college touts itself as a community, all faculty and staff, together and caring and that’s so much horseshit. Backbiting cliques. With each change of administration, the shuffle for more begins again. I’m rattling on, sorry. Beth, I’m going to have another glass of wine, you?” But now, all of her hard work would come to fruition. Derek would read from the novel and she expected the audience to rise up as one and applaud his genius. She’d read the novel at least ten separate times and she offered him her views. On the characters, a white woman, upper-class, married, two children; the husband, a doctor, preoccupied with the lack of medical services on the Caribbean island he had brought his family to; the poet, black, passionate about his writing, about the revolution on the island, and about the woman. His change of scene to an island helped, but she had warned Derek after one reading that the story bordered on melodrama and on another, it read through as a bodice ripper. But he’d eventually found the balance needed to tell the woman’s story and the island’s story. It was so different from that first novel, from all of the pieces he’d written since. Up till now, all his characters had been mouthpieces spouting on and on for pages. She had tried to tell him so, but nothing changed. With this, he listened and rewrote and listened and rewrote and the characters lived lives. On stage, the chair of the department was testing the mike in preparation for the event. And, she wasn’t in front, but quite far over from his left, three chairs from the end of the row. There was the president and entourage, people who by their activity she guessed were members of the media, including the P.R. officer for the campus. And yet there was Chloe. Chloe, wife of an untenured member of Derek’s department. Chloe who she knew had sat in on several of Derek’s classes, the college made such an allowance for the spouses of faculty if approved by the instructor and Joan knew he would have approved. O, yes, Derek would have welcomed long-limbed, California girl Chloe. Joan was sure Chloe’s real intent was to get her husband tenure and Joan suspected, if that meant sleeping her way through the department, she would and Derek was an easy target. “Ladies and gentleman, we are gathered here to celebrate the world-wide acclaim that has come to our dear colleague, Derek Taylor. President Barker will introduce Derek Taylor.” The mouthpiece for the college had spoken. Now up the dais clambered Joe Barker. Joan observed to herself, if he gained any more weight he would need help to climb the stairs, lots of help. Derek looked calm awaiting the



introduction and though she’d hoped he would look her way, he didn’t, but rather towards the center about six rows out. Joan could just see the heads of what she thought were two girls, young women, one a redhead, the other blonde. To Joan, Derek wore a look of puzzlement. He removed his glasses, polished them on a cleaning tissue from a pack he kept in his coat pocket, replaced them and even seemed to squint towards the girls. Probably wondering if they will attend one of his classes. He licked his lips, how many times had she seen that gesture when they were out and his gaze went to a waitress, or just another woman, as he walked with her down the street. Barker reeled out the usual accomplishments, previous work, academic and creative, though there was little to say of Derek’s participation with the campus itself, and so she picked up on his last words of introduction. “We are glad to welcome to this celebration for and a reading by Doctor Derek Taylor.” Everyone stands and the applause rings out and Joan gets a better view of the two Derek seemed to be staring at. Everyone sits and Derek begins. “First let me thank all of you for being here, President Barker, members of the board of trustees, colleagues, students. I had no idea when I began this novel that it would resonate with so many people, and I am gratified to no end that it has spoken to the hearts of so many. It was a new departure for me and a long way from my last work to get here. As you know, the novel begins with a line that brings the story fullcircle. Derek fiddled with his glasses, opened the book to where Joan had placed the bookmark, cleared his throat and read, “She closed the book, placed it on the table, and finally, decided to walk through the door.” He looked up to the audience, a pause before he went on. Joan saw the blonde stand, point at Derek and say, “You stole my sister’s story! You were her teacher and you stole her story, how could you? What kind of man are you?” The redhead stood up and pointed at the stage. Derek looked aghast and that first row of notables and media turned towards the girl. O my God, Joan thought. The sister of the suicide. The girl that Derek had told her about who kept pestering him. Knowing Derek would keep dithering, Joan met her. She told the girl to stop bothering Derek, that she knew Derek hated dropping her from his class, but she had made it impossible. As she had learned from previous encounters, Joan knew the importance with these young girls was to be direct; to end whatever relationship it had been. Fortunately, the term was almost done. It was when they were in Maine that summer, the beginning of Derek’s sabbatical when he wrote the novel that they learned the girl had weighted herself with rocks and climbed into the college’s reflection pool. Joan stared at Derek. It was the girl’s story, not his, not their story, her story, no wonder.



Untitled by Jean Roelke Courtesy of the artist


Patti Smith by Jean Roelke Courtesy of the artist


lady bug poetry by Shannon Orr Your red dotted black on each side The more you stand out The more you can’t hide “Out damn spot” I heard you say Collecting more along the way Residue of those loved and lost Bridges burned on the way to the top On fake shrubbery you found a place in the sun But plastic, in the end, satiates no one.



Lady Bug by Shannon Orr Courtesy of the artist


a hope i’d reserved poetry by Jared Tredway

One of the rocks (a hope I’d privately reserved) beneath my feet (firmly planted) eroded. Bewildered, I froze up. My toes curled my legs flailed and I clenched my hands tightly. As the rock’s remnants swirled ‘round me, suddenly, serendipitously? I noticed I’d been floating



Rocks at Zion by Jared Tredway Courtesy of the artist


for shame

poetry by Jean Roelke

one. Breathless Emergency room light stabs. Adrenaline prickles knotted flesh. Gloved hands strip her, jab needles at a vein until one point slides in. Red anemones rise in the IV tube. Blue spreads under ashen skin. She knows the place to trade one death for another. Where love is air and simple bliss, delivered in a public room on a wheeled bed.

two. Diversion Her hair is tangled. Tubes go in or out. An oxygen mask hums her to sleep. He watches vaguely at first, reads the chart. Touches her shoulder as he slides the gown aside. She opens her eyes. A young man, an intern, he says. And when he’s finished washes his hands. Her breasts have some lumps, he says. Has she ever had sex, he wants to know. Writes on a clipboard. Leaves her alone, as the slice of tongue, probing fingers, bind oxygen to sex.



three. Cicatrix The jeweled handcuffs please her. She paints her nails to match. Manacles enforce mincing, lady-like steps. Earrings dangle, suspended from stoppered ears. Sweet music is the only thing she hears. Her voice is tidy, a whisper of disuse. His eyes reflect on her shiny red shoes. Each iris is a spider’s web, a baby blanket, the bars of a crib. The room is papered with departure. Cotton panties at the seaside, white as sails, he wore them on his head for the picture. I didn’t know what to say when he flashed that grin and his girlfriend’s red tube-top on his flat chested frame, her shorts tight above his hairy legs. Lipstick blurred his face. Yellow with age. What does it mean for something to be true? Gaudy handwriting obliterates the page. In the future you won’t memorize the silences among endless icy regrets. Everywhere, without knowing it, we suffer time.


a piece of me poetry by Shannon Orr

You want a piece of me In the form of time and energy A slice here a dice there from a place that is already lean



Stains by Shannon Orr Courtesy of the artist


E X HIB I T I O N T H EM E As artists we share a common desire to express our thoughts, ideas, and emotions. Some speak in visual languages, others craft with words or sounds, and some are compelled to perform. Very often we are asked to speak or write about the meaning in our work or share something about our creative process with those who seek a deeper understanding. Whether a poem or song lyric inspires your art, or conversely your work inspires your memory of a written piece, “Call and Response” asks each artist to exhibit written words alongside your art. The relationship between the words selected and the visual or performance pieces becomes itself part of the art, affecting the individual sensual perceptions of all who experience the work.






























Arlene Cason My maternal Japanese heritage has given me a lifelong respect and appreciation of nature and simplicity which translate into contemporary, spare works that allow each element to speak for itself. Utilizing everyday materials, found objects, recycled metal, oil, clay and wax, my hope is that the viewer will respond to the subtle gestures and voice of the work to bring a moment of insight or quiet reflection. My work has been featured in 500 Bowls published by Lark Books and The Extruder Book published by the American Ceramics Society.



Zac DiVine Zac DiVine, born in The North Eastern US, is a fine home builder and craftsman by trade. Having finished high school and started a degree in Criminal justice, the urge to create things became overwhelming. An apprenticeship with a local New Jersey finish carpentry crew secured and reinforced the desire of a hands-on approach to life. Having an adventurous spirit with a hint of wanderlust, the Atlantic ocean became the sanctuary and canvas for everything he would do. Surfing, fishing, and diving ruled his time for a while, when the desire to see new things grabbed hold of him. Now living in Texas with a family and wife, the ocean is far, but always calling. Painting is a recent endeavor, and he has only a few to speak of. But in them, the longing for wild places and wild things is captured, at least for him.





David Cook I was born, raised, and attended college in Arkansas. Upon graduation from college I moved to Paris, Texas and have enjoyed living there ever since. I have always enjoyed photography, but since retirement I now have the opportunity to devote more time to this passion of mine. I photograph subjects ranging from landscape to cityscape night photography, people, and all things interesting using both digital and film cameras. I have taught photography classes at Paris (Texas) Junior College and have conducted seminars and workshops at Collin College in Frisco and Plano, Austin College, Texas A&M University – Commerce, and at our studio in Paris. One of my main interests is photographing interesting and unique looking people to capture their personality in the photograph. For the past nine years I have been photographing traveling carnival workers, giving an insight into their unique personalities and their lives behind the scenes on the midway. I also create one-of-a-kind hand-made books to display my photography. My wife, Ginger, is a photographer and a photography professor, and we own and operate a photography business, Paris Texas Photo. We specialize in teaching antique photographic processes used in the 1800’s such as cyanotype and lumen prints, along with film photography and darkroom work.



Liz Elsberg Liz Elsberg is a multi-media Artist and Learning and Development Professional in the Dallas area. Her artistic work has been featured in various exhibitions both regionally and nationally and her professional work has enhanced training for more than 50,000 employees for several corporations nationwide. Since achieving a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree in Sculpture from Texas A&M University-Commerce, Liz has continued producing art by exploring a variety of media such as; printmaking, photography (digital and film), soft, fabric-based sculptures, multi-media sculptural installations, and video. Repetition of form, sound, and action are frequently used in her work.



Justin Flores Justin Flores is a native of the central shore points of New Jersey. There he pursued a career in high end residential building and has been an entrepreneur in the industry since 1998. He was inspired to pursue his creative passions of Afro-Cuban percussion and painting by his father Gregory Flores, who was born and raised in the mountains of Caguas, Puerto Rico. Justin has traveled the United States exploring and building across the country, from The Hamptons, Long Island, NY to the deserts of Phoenix, Arizona to the mountains of Breckenridge, Colorado and many places in between. He currently resides in Pottsboro, Texas where he continues to be creatively expressive in many aspects of life such as building, traditional archery, sailing and more.



Nancy Griffith Coming from New England born and raised in Fairfield, Connecticut Nancy was fortunate to experience the beauty of four seasons and the adventures of a small town environment. Always loving to draw and paint she spent a majority of time representing those little special things and moments on paper and canvas. Nancy’s art skills were nurtured by superb art teachers throughout her life and after receiving an associate degree in commercial art she decided to get a teaching degree from Averett University. In pursuit of a Master degree in art education she attended North Texas University. Now retired after 40 years of teaching she is creating daily involved in art clubs,shows, workshops, commission work, and teaching. Her art is described as energetic with brilliant colors, at times busy, and very entertaining. She calls it expressive Impressionism with a touch of realism. Often she begins with an abstract painting and adds a composition to it using acrylic, latex paint and sometimes adds collage and ink. Now she looks forward to enjoying the Texas country and creating a painting... that master piece that lies within.



Anika McRae-Easton “Listen to the Warm” by Rod McKuen is the foundation for my painting. It’s a staple of my collection, and I’ve read it at least once a year since I was 14. Some people think he’s cheesy, but I have always appreciated his sentimentality. It taught me how to cherish the little things life. McKuen and I both shared a love for the ocean, a reason his works resonated with me. There’s nothing better than the sunlight on your skin and the wind in your hair.





Wanda Holmes-Oliver

In 2007, I was immersed in the ceramic arts when my daughter introduced me to her digital camera. I fell in love - in fact, I haven’t fired a kiln since. Never having had the film experience, I began to be more and more curious about it as my digital skills matured and I began to feel overwhelmed by the ubiquity of the digital image. That curiosity led to workshops, experiments, and the revelation of the rich and dynamic world of alternative photographic techniques. My work leaped into a new orbit. Alternative processes connect me to the very beginnings of photography. They force me to be centered more in my hands and body than in my head. They defy control and that somehow frees me from being overly concerned with technical perfection. Each result is a unique surprise and bears some lesson great or small, whether a triumph or a disappointment. When I am at my best, the work is centering, contemplative, and focused in the moment. Each piece contains a bit of me, a slice of time, and an array of memories - what inspiration led to that particular piece, what challenges were faced in putting it together, what the paper felt like, how the chemicals smelled, whether I cursed or sang. While the viewer cannot share these memories, I believe the captured energy is palpable. I hope to express the extraordinary in the ordinary, to evoke an emotional connection to time and place, and to honor the search for authenticity in life. At its core, my work is rooted in celebration and joy, celebration of the world around me and my joy in the simple act of making.





Seth Hudson

It’s funny: people spend so much money to entertain kids and pander to their imaginations, and you know what kids’ favorite things to play with tend to be? The boxes the toys come in. Childhood is powerful. There is wonder and a lot of just figuring things out. Our environment is beyond our control, and on a subconscious level we respond to it in an important developmental activity called “play”. My son still plays with blocks. I remember spending hours when I was little setting up toys for elaborate scenarios to unfold with my little brother. My son does a similar thing, and it’s interesting to see how he is organizing his world through play. Many times after hours of stacking and arranging, he demolishes everything in seconds as “soldiers” battle “villains” (also blocks-he has action figures but prefers the blocks for some reason). I’ll come by his room and ask, “Why the mess? Why make something so vast and sophisticated only to destroy it all?” He simply says, “They got attacked.” My daughter loves to paint and is very free when she does so. She is learning to write and read. Everything is a story for her. She prances through the house singing her inner narrative. Our smallest-the mocking bird, is learning to play from her big brother and sister, and invents ways of her own as well. She recently was adding green to a family painting and cheered, “Green means go!” I’m no psychologist or anything. I teach high schoolers. They say more when they think nobody is listening. Maybe we all do. These blocks are a representation of identities. They are about making something of the pieces along the way—just as children do, and I believe we also continue doing well into our stories.





Kendra Keefer-McGee Kendra Keefer-McGee is a painter who works with mixed media, including acrylic, watercolor, ink, and collage on paper and wooden panels. She is influenced by the Concord Transcendentalists, Feminist art, Neo-Expressionism, 19th century Naturalists, and Albrecht Durer. She has a BFA in Painting from the University of North Texas and an MA in Art Education, also from UNT. Keefer-McGee was raised in Illinois, moving from a communal living experiment involving a Geodesic dome her parents built to married student housing at Southern Illinois University to a string of mobile home parks, to an urban neighborhood in the Southside of Peoria, finally ending up in rural Texas for high school. As an adult KeeferMcGee has lived in Denton and Austin, Texas with a 5 year interlude in Boston, Massachusetts. She has currently chosen to stay on her family farm in rural North Texas. From an early age, she mined myth, fairy tales, invented worlds, and her imagination to make sense of a chaotic adult world and to strengthen her connection to other children and to childhood, itself. Art became her refuge and her coping mechanism. Also, even though Keefer-McGee had a somewhat peripatetic childhood, she always sought a connection with nature and the land she was on for any given amount of time, seeking out a patch of woods to explore, even in the city. Keefer-McGee’s most recent body of work also examines themes of movement and connection/disconnection to the landscape. As an Art Teacher at a Title I school, she is especially aware of how disconnected many feel to the landscape itself that they as they travel back and forth through day after day.Living in New England, she had been struck by the power that naming every little hill and bend in the road provided. When Keefer-McGee moved back to her family farm she tried to dig into the history she could find of the Red River Valley and found very little that was specific. She began photographing her travels back and forth to work, documenting the sky and the road and trying to give voice to all the generations so focused on survival that they couldn’t imagine anything beyond that, whether that was the environment, politics, injustice, whatever. In these paintings, the road and the land around it become a character. The name of the series is After the Anthropocene, because the sad reality is that the land will continue to exist whether humanity does or not. Keefer-McGee spends a lot of time on specific places, documenting them, because their specificness is important. The beauty of the land and it’s concreteness, as well as our transientness are aspects of the human experience she is trying to convey.



Sarah Elizabeth Meyers I’m an artist and a teacher. The two are inextricably combined. As soon as I learn a new skill, I want to share it with other people. My most recent obsession is quilting and I’ve been sewing with my children and I’m teaching a workshop in Pottsboro soon. I also teach crochet in various locations. Fiber arts give me an artistic outlet that I can easily pause. My life has many interruptions and fabric and yarn are good at waiting. My first love, though, was painting. Watercolor is my favorite, but acrylic is fun if you need a specific image. I use wet on wet painting, to let the paint do some of the blending work on its own. Watercolors are a little harder to control, they prefer to go wherever they want. I don’t often have time to play with watercolors, but it’s always a pleasure when I do.



Daniel Montoya Daniel is a Colombian born filmmaker living and working in DFW. As an independent producer and director, his film work in documentary, narrative, and experimental has screened in festivals around the world with great reception. Film is a tool with powerful transformational and influential capabilities and I use it to impact by telling and presenting stories that matter, stories that can change the way we think in one way or another. I document those without a voice but with a message to tell. Working for a better and more accepting society.



Shannon Orr Shannon Orr is from Sherman, TX where she runs her bakery Twelve Eleven Bakery. She has always enjoyed writing and began actively pursuing photography in 2018. She enjoys taking photos of nature while on adventures with her family as well as creating surrealism photography and combining it with her poetry.



Jean Roelke Artist Statement: I am an artist who writes and teaches writing. I make things using words, usually books of some sort. My theoretical concerns relate to language, spoken and written, and the media with which language is recorded. I am interested in how thought is transmitted, interpreted and misinterpreted; relations between the spoken and recorded word; and ways words mean and change meaning. I am interested in these problems as an artist and a poet. Visual poetry addresses these concerns, and is a major means of artistic expression for me. I am primarily a book artist, but books, for me, consist of anything that can be read. Artist Bio: Jean Roelke is a poet and visual artist whose work focuses on language and the relationships between word and image. Her work has been exhibited locally and regionally. She currently teaches writing and literature at the University of North Texas, where she is also studying sculpture.





Ginger Sisco-Cook

Ginger Sisco Cook is a fine art photographer living in Paris, TX. Ms. Cook earned a master of fine arts degree in May 2014 from TX. A&M University—Commerce and is currently serving as an adjunct professor in photography, art appreciation and graduate studies. Ginger’s works have been included in several notable exhibitions such as her Solo Exhibitions at the Lea County Museum in Lovington, NM, the Gaines County Museum in Seagraves, TX. Selected images have been exhibited at The Longview Museum of Fine Arts in Longview, TX, the Women’s Art Museum at Fair Park in Dallas, TX, the Amarillo Museum of Art, Museum of the Big Bend in Alpine, TX, and the Brownsville Museum of Fine Art in Brownsville, TX. Internationally her work has been exhibited at The World Through My Eyes, 5th Biennial of Fine Art & Documentary Photography, and in Barcelona, Spain and the Urban & Rural Landscape Exhibition, in London, England. Galleries where her work has been shown include the Center for Contemporary Arts, Abilene, TX, The Art Center of Waco, TX, the Edward J. & Helen Jane Morrison Gallery, University of Minnesota, Texas Tech University in Lubbock, Texas, the Midwest Center for Photography in Wichita, KS, the MAINSITE Contemporary Art Gallery in Norman, OK, Gold/scopophilia Gallery in Montclair, NJ, Buddy Holly Cultural Center in Lubbock, TX, A.I.R. Gallery in Brooklyn, NY, and Options Gallery at Odessa College. In 2016, Cook was elected to the Texas Photographic Society State Board of Directors where she currently serves on the Executive Board.





Jan Stewart

The first drawing Jan remembers making was a horse. “My grandfather had horses, so I would try to remember how the horse’s jaw felt in my hand. I would draw the rounded line to make the shape of the jaw, like I remembered. The result wasn’t great, but you could tell it was a horse!” Jan has always had a passion for art and says, “Crayons were exciting to me. In coloring books, I would color the grandmotherly character’s hair blue. Once, a friend asked me why I did that, and I replied, ‘My grandmother has blue hair’. She didn’t understand my aesthetic.” Jan Ell Talley was born in Gainesville, Texas, but grew up in Sherman. She took art classes in public school, as well as private lessons for a time. She graduated from Austin College with a double major in Communication Arts and English, and a minor in Art. Of the minor in Art she states: “I was a Theatre nerd in college. That demanded a lot of time!” She eventually found her calling as a teacher, teaching English for two years until finding out English wasn’t “her thing”. After landing a job teaching Theatre, her other passion, she feels lucky to have taught Theatre, Speech and Art for 25 years. After retiring, and encouraged by her children and family, Jan began her career as an artist. She recently began showing her artwork in public, and is associated with Gallery Off the Square in Sherman, Texas. She has shown artwork in shows in Sherman and Gainesville, and provided a drawing in October for an auction that raised funds for the Ampersand Women’s Crisis Center in Lexington, Kentucky. She has commissioned pieces in collections in Texas, as well as works hanging in private collections in Texas, California, Florida, Kentucky, and Illinois.





Barb Stewart

Barb grew up in the Western Suburbs of Chicago, Illinois and spent a brief time in Tampa, Florida. She relocated to Texas in 2015 and works as a self-employed artist. Art and music have always been a part of her life. It was a way to find solace as a result of finding out at age six that her biological mother died from complications of Rheumatic Fever when she was three months old. Her adoption by her natural uncle and his wife had been arranged before she was born. It was after her adoptive dad’s passing that she reunited with her natural father’s side of the family in 2014. She received an AA Degree from the College of DuPage in Glen Ellyn, IL. After transferring, she received a BFA degree from The School of the Art Institute of Chicago with a ceramics/textile design major. In 2012 she received a certificate in Digital Prepress Production also from the College of DuPage in Glen Ellyn, IL. Previous jobs include 12 years employment for a digital mapping firm. Barb is involved in many organizations and art based initiatives including the Denison Arts Council, the Main Street Design Committee, the Texoma Arts Association, Wonderland Art Gallery and Skiddy Street Puppet Company.



Patsy Tindel Patsi Grisak Tindel is currently a resident of Lamar county. She has been an amateur photographer since receiving her first Brownie camera as a child. Photography became more of a passion when she retired and could devote more time to classes, research and playing with her various cameras. As a Master Naturalist, she devotes much of her work to recording nature that quietly surrounds us. In addition, preserving the images of times past is also a passion. She loves to record the ever changing landscape of Fannin and Lamar counties, as old barns, buildings and businesses begin to decay, Patsi is influenced by the work of other photographers on the web and in print, as well as fellow photographers in the area. Dorothea Langley and Christopher Beane have influenced her latest work. She is just beginning to feel confident in showing her work, but has shown in a juried show in Paris, Texas, called “What Brings You Here?� sponsored by the Paris Poets Society.



Trudy Pavey Whitney Classically trained for ten years in oil painting landscapes, I decided to break away from the oil medium and structure. I started watercolors just two years ago and really enjoy letting the paint do most of the work for me. I have painted since in my thirties, but kids and work took too much time. Now, I own a small business that my husband and store manager run for me and I have time to start up again in watercolor. Kids are grown! I have two young granddaughters who love to come out to our horse ranch to paint and ride. I am teaching school age students from age 6 and up private lessons at my home where I enjoy a lovely studio converted from my husband’s office. Instead of holding golf trophies and Tyson Food stuff, only my paints and supplies take up all the space including a drafting table and stools to host students. I am constantly trying new things and am inspired by the nature around me at home and on trips with my family.



ause I am too y head r too long th the light on ke shapes in the light w what they might be o be brave.

When everything was broken The devil hit his second stride... ...For fear of moments stolen I don’t wanna say goodnight But I’ll still see you in the morning Still know your heart and still know both your eyes I could have told you ‘bout the long nights How no one loves the birds that don’t rise So you can tell the heroes go hide My sense of wonder’s just a little tired But if only you could see yourself in my eyes You’d see you shine, you shine I know you’d never leave me behind But I am lost this time

I am a bad man pretending Tormented by temptations of the heart I don’t know if I can help myself You know the shadows creep and demons seek me in droves There are things about me you don’t know There is more of the dark than I put on show Will Soteria save me from my narcissism My virtues lost in the dark?







I will be here with you Just like I told you I would I’d love to always love you But I’m scared of loneliness When I’m, when I’m alone with you

Wish I could make you see this brightness. Don’t worry, all is well. All is so perfectly, damnably well. I understand now that boundaries between noise and sound are conventions. All boundaries are conventions, waiting to be transcended... Moments like this, I can feel your heart beating as clearly as I feel my own, and I know that separation is an illusion. My life extends far beyond the limitations of me.



The first dance Well, the first one that counted Felt like my blood was built from crackling lights

Our lives are made from these small hours these little wonders these twists and turns of fate time falls away, but these small hours still remain

All this ancient wildness That we don’t understand The first sound of a heartbeat To riots roaring on It shouldn’t have to be so fucking hard this is life on Earth its just life on earth

It’s precisely what’s kept you from greatness. Arrogance and fear still keep you from learning the simplest and most significant lesson of all... It’s not about you.






Jared Tredway

Jared Tredway grew up in Windom, Texas, a small town about 80 miles northeast of Dallas. His childhood was spent carving tunnels in maize fields, drawing whimsical castles, putting on productions for his school class, and building Lego cities and stick forts in the forest. In grade school he explored music, art, and theater as well as writing and literature. At Texas A&M University he majored in architecture and studied photography with Susan Kirchman. After completing his formal education, Jared returned to north Texas and joined David Baca Studio (an architecture firm) as a project manager and interior design director. He has been humbled and honored to perform with the Sherman Symphony Orchestra and the Sherman Community Players, and proud to have served on the board of DSP&R (Downtown Sherman Now!) during the development and implementation of the streetscape enhancement project and revitalization efforts. Jared also served as the chair of the North Texas Young Professionals, and initiated its Pillars Forum, a celebration of influential community leaders. In 2014, Jared began studying acting with Theresa Bell in Dallas, and signed with Damaris Grogan at the Clutts Agency. The following year, Jared participated in Theresa Bell’s short film production “Lullaby,” after which he was inspired to write and produce his own short entitled “Receptivity.” In the fall of 2015 Jared moved to Los Angeles, joining the architecture firm Uberion while continuing his acting studies with Lesly Kahn and Scott Barnes and Matt Snyder at Studio Four. During this time Jared maintained his presence in North Texas, and in 2016 he founded the Tredway Workshop, a multidisciplinary design build firm focused on modernist residences and boutique commercial projects. He joined the Ghost Town Arts Collective in 2019 and he is excited to be a part of its growth.





Karey Walter

My photography is inspired by unique locations, animals, people, and a variety of situations that are often overlooked. Beauty usually goes unnoticed and unappreciated, yet it reflects aspects of our humanity that is memorable to capture with a camera. I strive to capture moments of beauty and magic. Whether photographing people or landscapes, the same approach applies. I am placing myself at the moment, being patient, and having faith that something magical will unfold. A sense of reverence has fueled my photography for the natural world and its remarkable beauty. I resonate toward images that depict a peaceful coexistence between humans and nature. These quiet moments with my camera brings me back to my childhood: exploring, be curious, dreaming, seeing, and breathing in the beauty that surrounds me. In the evolution of my photography, I am humbled by trying new techniques in analog and digital photography. I’ve learned that creativity requires a perennial sense of playfulness, finding that childlike fascination for the magic contained within each opportunity in life.



Ruth E.N. Cox Williamson Our world is broken, full of broken people, seeking, ever seeking wholeness, and finding it in moments of connection, joy, and transformation. Human beings are simultaneously full of hope and full of despair. The art I make, whether photography, painting, writing, or telling stories is full of the humor of human connection, joy, pain, and hope. I am inspired by light, music, movement, human bodies in motion and in stillness, the faces of children, dance, and nature. I am often transported when I have the opportunity to sing, and when sharing song with others, feel elation and connection to those around me. There is no single art form that I prefer, so I am at best a mixed media artist crossing from one form to the next and taking inspiration from all that is around me. I am most often making photographic commentary on the people, places, and spaces around me, sometimes painting on the canvas of the photograph I have printed. At this moment that is what fits. My art speaks to and for the communities we create and the opportunity to connect, and see the humanity and ourselves in another’s eyes, and the beauty of the “ordinary� world that surrounds us.



Mike Zapata Mike Zapata is a lifetime native Texan and an avid outdoor enthusiast. Mike and his family recently moved to Denison after being a resident of Frisco for 27 years and has been very active in the Frisco community. He has served on the City of Frisco City Council and various other boards and committees and recently retired from the City of Frisco. Mike’s many hobbies include reading, fishing, fossil hunting and he has recently developed a passion for the art of photography where he has won several awards for his nature and art photographs and finds it exciting to be able to share his passion of art photography. Mike has been a recent contributor in several art exhibits including the A Smith Gallery, City of Frisco Art in the Atrium, Mary Karam Gallery, Wonderland Gallery, and the gallery8660 and was recently published in the Frisco Style magazine and his photography has won numerous awards including several Best of Shows and First Place at the State Fair of Texas. He is also a photographic contributor to various educational websites. In an effort to better understand nature and our environment and incorporate nature in his photographs, Mike has received his Master Naturalist certification through the Texas Master Naturalist program and volunteers his time teaching citizens and children about our local natural environment. Mike is an ex-officio member of the Denison Arts Council. Mike along with his daughter Jenna Zapata and wife Jennifer Zapata are the owners of Zig Zag Galleries in Downtown Denison, Texas which will open in 2019 and looks forward to being a partner in the local Arts Community.



Profile for ghosttownarts

Apparitions 0.1  

Apparitions Prototype Issue 0.1 is a prototype of the forthcoming quarterly publication of the Ghost Town Arts Collective, a non-profit arts...

Apparitions 0.1  

Apparitions Prototype Issue 0.1 is a prototype of the forthcoming quarterly publication of the Ghost Town Arts Collective, a non-profit arts...