Portrait of the Artist Through Her Hometown
My childhood home
Disclaimer: This is not my usual content, so I don't blame you if you click away! More of the status quo next week. If you want to learn a bit more about me, or just want to scroll through some feel-good, small town photos, keep reading. :)
The quiet town of Fowler, Indiana is one of those places you might drive by on your way to somewhere else and not think twice about. When I talk about Fowler, I usually have to tell people it’s near Lafayette. Not many have heard the name. It’s not the prettiest town, but as an artist drawn to the beauty in broken things, I think there’s a magic to it that’s hard to describe. Undoubtedly it’s just a mix of nostalgia and the rush of serotonin that comes with familiar sights. As a kid I would travel two hours back and forth between my mom and my dad, and looking back it’s interesting comparing the two homes. Fishers is like most suburban cities, and that’s where I reside now. But there’s a safety to a small town like Fowler that feels so cozy, like a nest. It’s a place where no one bothers to lock car doors, where everyone knows everyone else. My brother Caleb and I knew every inch of Fowler like the back of our hands, allowed to roam around free and explore — a freedom we didn’t have in Fishers.
As an adult, I don’t visit as often as I should. But when I do, when I pass the Casey’s and the IGA, I feel like the town gives me a welcoming hug. Memories long suppressed come rushing back. It’s weird when you’re gone for a while and things change. Like the retirement home that was built over top of the ruins of the demolished elementary school I used to attend. Little things that you never knew you felt proprietary over until they are gone. As someone who struggles with memory, I felt it was long overdue to document this weird little town that I love. I hope you can see some of the same charm I see in it.
(Above) My dad and stepmom live here with my five younger siblings. The house used to be a parsonage before they bought it from the church. My dad is the lead minister. The inside is almost unrecognizable from what it used to be; most of it has since been renovated. We didn’t always live in this house but it’s the one we’ve stayed in longest.
This is the funeral home across from our house.
When I was little I was scared of the ghosts that might be inside.
The retirement home where my old elementary school used to be.
(Above) My dad’s church. As a kid I used to feel like a celebrity because everyone in the church knew my family. Something I laugh about now. I miss the stained glass windows and red pews that I used to climb over.
(Above) The old Dollar Store.
(Above) The Chocolate Shop. One of my favorite places growing up.
A recent addition.
Very sad they didn’t take the opportunity to be punny and paint bees instead. Pretty mural though.
(Above) One-room theater completely staffed by volunteers. $1 popcorn that’s actually really good. It was renovated a while back with the art deco architecture. 10/10 recommend. One of my favorite parts of Fowler.
(Above) Moses Fowler Pool and skate park. I loved coming here with my friends.
(Above) Fowler Town Park. The church meets here sometimes during the summer. Everyone brings food from home and eats in the shelter or in the park. My favorite part of the park growing up was the giant metal slab and the twin swings. Those things go really high! I used to play on the rocks by the pond and my mom hated that. The red slide is deceptively fast and I was deathly afraid of it as a kid.
Abandoned daycare by the church. There used to be a playground outside.
I never liked it and it’s kind of eerie looking now.
(Above) This is the Fowler library. This place seemed kind of weird and intimidating to me as a kid and smelled funny. I didn't go often.
(Above) The abandoned house next door. There are lots of stray cats in the crawl space under the house.
If you’ve made it this far, thanks for indulging my random desire to document my hometown. Even though it’s kind of falling apart all over, I still love it. It’s a rundown, beautiful, liminal space. Something worth noticing.