Flying across the Tennessee River made this Owl very tired. I was revived, though, once I got to the River Clay Festival in Decatur. River Clay celebrates the arts and the artists who create them. Dozens of booths displayed some of the most noteworthy artists throughout our valley and beyond.

Take for instance Teresa from Athens whose “Soul Spirit Jewelry” brought precious rocks and metals together to make something worthy of an heirloom. Intriguing too was Audrey, of “Wood Nymphs.” Her work links wooden planks with blue acrylic to make benches that appear to be rivers flowing through valleys as seen from an airplane (or a flying Owl’s Eye!). One of my favorite artists was Sophie McVicar from Birmingham. Her paintings attracted my eye because they show not only magnificent birds but also reveal a story. Take for instance her tremendous golden eagle, shown pouncing on two distressed rabbits. Most painters would be satisfied with a display of a single eagle in a tremendous dive. But this painting carried a tale. It recalled Carl Jung’s observation that embracing chaos allows for growth. Such a painting charged the atmosphere to generate conversation. What happened next, after the eagle pierced into the rabbits? What made this painting so fascinating? Sophie challenged the viewer to think beyond her technical mastery to what lies beyond. Her painting displayed not only a valuable rendering of an eagle but conveyed a tale which would occupy thoughtful viewers for generations to come. All of her work was like that.

I thought of Athens and our artists here. We have so much talent, with so few outlets. High Cotton Arts valiantly offers an awareness of some of the wonders we have here in Limestone County and beyond. The engagement of muralists has begun to draw life onto our town’s bare brick walls. Welcome, too, are some magnificent works appearing on long abandoned brick walls in Decatur. We could be like Decatur. At River Clay, it was an inspiration to see how Decatur has engaged its artists to such public works on behalf of all its citizens. It caused this Owl to pause and wonder that such talent exists, and is recognized.

This Owl was saddened to learn that one of our Athens born, nationally recognized artist’s work lies forgotten in some container here in Athens. This scandal has a story. Charles H. Sykes, who was born and raised in Athens, discovered he had a remarkable talent for illustration and cartooning. With no outlet here, he moved to Philadelphia. Thereafter, he had a great career as an editorial cartoonist for not only Life Magazine but the Philadelphia Ledger. His political cartoons covered almost every major event during World War 1, the Roaring ’20s, and the dangerous 1930s. Athens Houston Library discovered several of Sykes’ previously unknown World War II military paintings several years ago. Sad to say, these have never been put on public display. They lie forgotten in a container somewhere. Why? We can see why he left Athens for a fine career, for which he was greatly recognized elsewhere before he died in 1942. His works are well represented at the Society of Illustrators in New York City. But not in his hometown.

Through the decades we’ve recognized artistry. The Chapel of Athens State University has some excellent wood artistry you can visit. Our courthouse calls us back to ancient Greece, the birthplace of democracy, with its columns that remind us of the Parthenon. Carol Foret of Athens has gone on to a career in artistry, while others working in leaded glass and painting have migrated to Lowe Mill in Huntsville. You’ll find our potters and found object artists presenting at various art shows across our Tennessee River Valley.

Why not here, in Athens? Maybe the saga of illustrator and editorial cartoonist Charles H. Sykes explains why we aren’t a fountain of art here. Sykes, a born Athenian, won a gold medal for his 1918 cartoon for the Liberty Loan, and is considered one of the finest illustrators in American history. His work is shown nowhere here in his home town. His previously unknown, colorful military paintings, discovered years ago, lie forgotten in a box, shown nowhere. Why aren’t they the center of our Veteran’s Museum? Our mayor’s office? Why don’t they greet visitors to our Courthouse, our City Hall? What does this tell our talented young people, who are now learning what they should do to succeed in the world? Owls wonder about such things as they fly across the river, going elsewhere.