Before there was a cultural campus, before Fort Ben was redeveloped into the community hub it is today, there was a girl on a bike, riding up to a patch of green that is now a state park, sitting under a tree, and singing. "It was just such a spiritual place for me," says Dr. Shaila Mulholland, interim executive director of Arts for Lawrence. "I could go, ride my bike, sit beside a tree, and have time for reflection." She pauses, almost surprised by the memory herself. "I kind of forgot that, until you asked." Dr. Shaila Mulholland and her husband, Chris Brazis, recently attended an art gallery exhibit hosted by Arts for Lawrence. It's a fitting place to start, because so much of Mulholland's story, the one she's living out now at Arts for Lawrence, circles back to that same instinct … Find a quiet place, connect to something larger, and bring people into it with you. Roots in Lawrence Mulholland grew up in the Lawrence community and graduated from Lawrence North in 1997. Music was a constant presence in her life. She played piano and percussion all through school. By 15 she'd already won a piano competition and the prize was donated — $1,000 — to the Lawrence Township School Foundation. Outside of music, as a high school student, she was working at restaurants like Don Pablo's and American Bandstand, learning customer service and how to get things done efficiently and effectively. “Customer service has been a really good background to have in this new role." Finding her voice at Indiana University Mulholland headed to Indiana University (IU) Bloomington. Biology was her undergraduate degree, but her real interest — human development, and how people learn — pulled her toward education instead. She earned her master's at IU, and along the way discovered a talent she hadn't expected: Designing programs that brought people together. One of those programs, a dialogue series called Common Quest, invited students into conversations about interfaith and spiritual development. It won her awards, and it planted a seed that would define her career around the belief that people need spaces where they can be honest with each other, even about hard things. She also served as the youngest member of a 20-person national research team studying student engagement and inclusion in higher education, work that shaped her identity as, in her words, "a sociologist of education." That belief carried her to New York University for her PhD in education, with a focus on policy. While there, she was selected for a film and radio documentary training program for young women of color in New York City, run by Chica Luna Productions — an experience she still counts among her most formative, and one that helped her grow not just as a scholar but as an artist. New York, San Diego, and finding her way back home After finishing her PhD, Mulholland spent time back in Indianapolis on a dissertation fellowship from the Lumina Foundation, researching higher education in Indiana. From there, the family moved to San Diego, where Mulholland spent more than a decade, from 2009 to 2020, building her academic career at San Diego State University and National University. Even then, music stayed close. She set up a piano studio and taught lessons, something she'd first done as a teenager. "Teaching piano has always been really special," she says. "Music and art have both been something that me and my sons have been able to share together.” Art became even more integral during the years after experiencing the loss of their son and brother, AlVee. By 2020, she and her family were ready to come home — not just to Indianapolis, but specifically to Lawrence. "We just love everything Lawrence has," she says: the school system, the people, the way the community shows up for itself. Coming back also meant relearning her own hometown. New landmarks, new favorite spots in Lawrence — places like Jockamo Pizza, Café Audrey, Moo & Loo’s Frozen Treats, the library that wasn't there when she left, and the cultural campus now anchoring Fort Ben. Stepping into the role Mulholland quickly reconnected with the community, including a return to the Lawrence Township School Foundation as a board member, being elected in 2024 to serve on the Metropolitan School District of Lawrence Township School Board, and serving as a board member for Arts for Lawrence. When the opportunity came to step into the interim executive director role at Arts for Lawrence — after years of watching the organization's impact up close, Mulholland said yes. Since taking the role, she's been fully dedicated to the day-to-day operations, including booking artists, implementing and evaluating the organization’s summer camp, organizing outdoor concerts and gallery exhibits, and standing behind the mic at community events like Fridays at the Fort to tell the Arts for Lawrence story. This summer's camp gave her one of her clearest "aha" moments yet, such as watching children try piano for the first time. "The magic that happens when they get their five fingers to play a little melody, when they’ve never done that before, is really cool," she says. Mulholland also saw something she didn't expect … how quickly art dissolved the usual social categories kids get sorted into. "It just got them together and close," she says. That same instinct … using art to open something up in people … is what she keeps coming back to when she talks about why this work matters right now. "There's so much noise, so much instant gratification," she says. "Taking a pause, learning to listen … that's a different muscle. And if we don't take time to acknowledge the pain people are going through, we can't really help them find another path." What's next? Looking a year ahead, Mulholland wants to take what's working in Arts for Lawrence's summer camp and community celebrations and stretch it across the calendar. Those options could include more classes for youth and adults, more music and art instruction, and more visiting artists like the Kenyettá Dance Company program that spent a week with campers this summer. She also wants to grow the organization's volunteer base and bring in more local partners and teaching artists, part of a broader commitment to supporting Lawrence's small businesses alongside its artists. Her seat on the MSD of Lawrence Township School Board reinforces all of it. "These enriching experiences … a music class, an art class … they're not just nice to have," she says. "They're essential. They give kids an outlet, a form of self-expression, and they support a child's resiliency." It's the same thread running through Arts for Lawrence's community events, from Juneteenth celebrations to Fridays at the Fort: honoring traditions, building unity, and giving people a reason to gather, she says. Beyond the bio Ask her what people might not know about her, and she doesn't hesitate … she plays more than piano. Percussion, xylophone — she's got a full setup at her home, including three pianos in her living and dining rooms. But mostly, she'd rather people experience Arts for Lawrence than hear her describe it. "I can talk and talk," she says, "but you just have to come and experience it firsthand." Step onto the Fort Ben campus, into the gallery or the theater, and see what she means.

Photos by Brian Atkinson Some artists don't arrive at their craft through a straight line. Brian Atkinson is one of them. And that winding path may be exactly what makes his work worth seeing. Growing up, Atkinson was already the kid skipping class to disappear into the art room. But he came from a family where college wasn't part of the conversation, so when the time came, he did what everyone around him did: He went to work as a laborer. Although he didn’t stop exploring art, Atkinson considered it more of a hobby than a potential career path. It wasn't until his mid-20s that he walked through the doors of the Herron School of Art. He was 26. Most of his classmates were 18 or 19. He went full time, then had to stop, then worked, then went part time, then finally finished … earning his degree in art education. Finding the Lane Ask Atkinson how he developed his style and he doesn't hesitate. He found it early, and he's never really left it. "I've always just been really attracted to things that have high contrast," he says. "Really dark, dark areas and really light, light areas." Add to that an eye for organic shapes — such as the skeletal reach of leafless trees, the way branches move across negative space — and bold, arresting color, and you start to understand what you're walking into when you see his work. He does take commissions, but selectively. If it doesn't fit his vision, he turns it down. "I want to enjoy doing it," he says simply. The Teacher Who Stayed an Artist Atkinson spent 30 years at Lawrence North High School — 22 as an art teacher, eight as an administrator. But he never abandoned his studio. Early on, a mentor helped him see that teaching and making didn't have to be separate lives. That mentor, sculptor and fellow Lawrence North art educator Brad Holmes, modeled what it looked like to do both. When Atkinson eventually became department chair at Lawrence North, he carried that conviction into every hire he made. "Show me what you're working on right now," he recalls telling candidates. "Don't show me what you did in college." With an assist from then new hire, Nichole Cooper, he also launched a faculty art show — an annual reminder, to students and staff alike, that the people teaching art were actually making it. But the part of teaching that mattered most to him wasn't about technique. It was about belonging. "There are a lot of kids who don't have a place in a big high school," he says. "The art department is that place." He and Holmes used to chuckle about some of the grade cards — rows of D's and F's, and then an A in art, with a note that said “a pleasure to have in class.” Those weren't charity grades. Those were kids who showed up because someone saw them. Atkinson says he still hears from many of them, who often express gratitude for their time in his class. Retirement, and Getting Back to It With the blessing and the support of his wife, Liz, Atkinson retired in June 2025. Since then, he's been painting. A lot. That dedication has resulted in a growing collection of new pieces. Most mornings, he walks his dogs, then heads to the studio. Sessions run five hours sometimes — time disappearing the way it only does when you're fully inside something. "I don't ever want it to feel like a job," he says. That's why the commissions with too many directions — combine this element, this color, this concept — don't interest him. "That feels like work to me." \He started painting exclusively in oils during COVID, after years of moving through acrylics, chalk drawings, oil pastels, clay, and even digital fine art made with Photoshop and Illustrator. Seven years into oils, he hasn't looked back. What to Expect June 2–11 When you walk into the Arts for Lawrence gallery this month, you'll see bold colors and strong contrast in works ranging from landscapes to florals and abstracts. Atkinson describes his work as something he was chasing — a feeling, a direction, a few months of inspiration gathered and put on canvas. He's thought about what art does for people, especially now. "People need an outlet," he says. "Sometimes you need to look at something and just think, I really love that. I'd love to have that in my house." Brian Atkinson's work is on display June 2–11 at Arts for Lawrence, 8920 Otis Ave, Indianapolis, IN 46216

Seeking to shed its label as an art desert, especially in comparison to its Hamilton County neighbors, the City of Lawrence looks forward to opening the Fort Ben Cultural Campus, 8920 Otis Ave., Lawrence. Read the full article here.

The Fort Ben Cultural Campus in Lawrence will soon open to the public. The project includes an addition on the theater, an outdoor plaza and amphitheater, musical swings and the transformation of a historic building into an art gallery. Read the full article here.

In 2018, the Lilly Endowment published a grant opportunity called “Strengthening Indianapolis Through Arts and Cultural Innovation.” Arts for Lawrence applied, and in 2019 the Fort Ben Cultural Campus, a public park and partnership between the City of Lawrence and Arts for Lawrence, received a $5.85 million grant from the Lilly Endowment. The project came to fruition in five phases. Read the full article here.

A look at what is to come when Arts for Lawrence opens the new Fort Harrison Cultural Campus to the public. Read the full article here.

Arts for Lawrence (AFL) has received a $100,000 grant from the National Endowment for the Arts (NEA), as part of a recently announced $57,750,000 in funding from the NEA American Rescue Plan. Read the full article here.

Teresa Reynolds didn't set out to be a singer. She set out to be an actor. She grew up in Indianapolis, fell in love with performing in junior high, trained through a theatre intensive at Broad Ripple High School, and earned an acting degree from Ball State. Singing was always there. Inspired by her father’s love of music, she had been writing music with her brother, producer T.J. Reynolds, since they were kids. However, she compartmentalized that early love of music. Theatre was the career plan, and New York was the logical destination. While living and acting in New York, she was contacted by a friend of a friend who was looking for a female rapper. "I don't really consider myself a rapper," Teresa told the man who had called, David Ippolito. "I consider myself more of a singer." That was fine with him. Ippolito had spent two decades busking (performing in public spaces to earn money) in Central Park with a permit from the Parks Department, singing most Saturdays to crowds in the hundreds, sometimes over a thousand. He invited her to join him. "That's where I really considered I was getting my chops," she said. As Ippolito told her and other performers who joined him on the hill, "It's just us, you know. If anybody told you that you don't sing very well, just sing louder." She sang with him nearly every week for years. And somewhere in all that repetition, something shifted. "In the beginning, there was a lot more of like … singing how I think the song should sound. This run would be cool right here, I'm going to get big here and small here,” she recalled thinking. “But that over-analysis just kind of faded away." What replaced it became the foundation of everything she does now: "I need to figure out what this song means to me, and I'm singing the story of the song. I'm not thinking about how I sound. We're having a moment together, about a love song, about something we've both lived. Music has the ability to transport you more than almost anything else … like music and smell. You hear a song and it takes you right back to your mom's kitchen." That belief — that a song is a moment of connection before it's anything else — is the throughline of Teresa' career, from Central Park to Gloria Gaynor's stage to the band she leads today, Teresa Reynolds and the Slicktones. From the hill to the world stage The Gaynor gig came the same way the Ippolito one did. A friend of a friend, and an email from a manager describing what they needed. Teresa wrote back immediately: "I love disco,” although it wasn't yet back in fashion. Before that chance encounter, Teresa had been quietly wondering if her long-held dream of international travel — sparked by a single trip to Kenya at the age of 21 — simply wasn't in the cards for her. Then an email arrived, an audition followed, and she got the job. Her first show was at the Count Basie Theater in Red Bank, New Jersey, alongside the Village People. From there: Argentina, and eventually stages around the world. There was one rehearsal with the musical director beforehand, and that was it. "It was like, okay girl, welcome to the big leagues. Pack your bag, come prepared." After the first show, nerves got the better of her, until the musical director came back with a message from Gaynor herself: "You nailed it." The takeaway wasn't just the memory. It was a standard. "It's important to me to always make sure that I'm being as professional as I can be, being as prepared as I can be,” Teresa says. “I wish I could just sit around and write music and play music all the time, but I also have to be a businesswoman." Back in Indy By 2018, after more than 14 years in New York, Teresa and her husband started watching Indianapolis from a distance. She was tracking the city's growing arts scene on social media, while he noticed that the restaurant industry — his specialty — also was expanding. "We looked at each other and said, I think we can both do what we want in Indianapolis." She'd left after college assuming a career in the arts here wasn't realistic. Now it looked different. Teresa already had two solo albums to her name, Aflame and State of Mind, made in New York with T.J. and producer Chad Moser. What she didn't have back home yet was a band. She knew who she wanted, though — Poncho Hedrick and Mina Keohane, both musicians she'd met years earlier through her brother and had long admired. Hedrick gave her her first opportunity back in Indy, inviting her to sing with his band Blackberry Jam at the Jazz Kitchen. Through him she met drummer Matthew Dupree and guitarist Joshua Ginder. The band came together almost by necessity. In 2021, coming out of the pandemic, Teresa landed a solo slot at Art and Soul — a stripped-down, filmed, socially-distanced version of the annual event that year. She had songs. She needed people to play them. She called Hedrick, Dupree, and Keohane. Then she booked her first headlining show at the Jazz Kitchen and realized: "Okay, well, I need a guitar." Ginder joined. "That was it. I was like, you guys can't leave. I'm never letting you go," she recalled with a laugh. The name came later, while she was rocking her daughter to sleep in a quiet room. It just arrived. "From there it was off to the races." Developing her own sound Ask Teresa where the band's genre-blurring sound comes from and she points straight to her childhood living room. Her father's jazz records filled their home, including Miles Davis, John Coltrane, Eric Saunders, alongside music greats like Carole King, Stevie Wonder, Ray Charles, and Sarah Vaughan. Meanwhile MTV and Indianapolis's now-defunct 96.3 were feeding her a steady diet of '90s R&B at what she calls its peak. "It has my heart,” she said. “It takes a lot sometimes not to just put on the old-school stuff." T.J. grew up in the same house with a few different influences — more rock, different textures — so when brother and sister write together now, she says, "we're pulling together all the music that's touched us over our lifetimes." Writing "Violet,” a signature single Some songs get built. The single "Violet" just arrived. Teresa was living in New York, out at a Knicks game with a friend, when her brother sent over a new track he'd produced. She got home near midnight, went straight to her home studio, and started laying down what she calls "caterwauling" — vocal runs, ad-libs, nothing with words yet. She looked at the clock. Late. She told herself she'd write just one verse before bed. If my life were to end right now, could I feel good to take my bow … "I was like, ‘What am I writing about?’ What's this about, my decomposition?" Then came the chorus: No, not without you. Something clicked, but she didn't yet know what. She kept going until five or six in the morning, finished the song, and sent it to her brother, who wrote back stunned that she'd been up all night. It wasn't until she was partway through writing that she understood that she was writing to a child she didn't have yet. She wrote "Violet" in 2012. Her daughter, Violet, was born in 2019. "I really feel like that song is about manifestation. I believe in manifestation. I think it's so powerful." It remains one of her favorite songs to perform. Every time, Teresa says, it still lands with the same weight it had the night she wrote it. Making room for everyone Teresa calls herself an organizer and activist, though she's quick to be honest about where that sits in her life right now. "I wish I was more on the front lines right now. It's hard … working and mothering." What she can offer, she says, is a mindset that focuses on connecting people, and believing there's enough room for everyone to succeed. "No one can compete with me, because I'm rooting for you too. There's so much space for everyone,” she says. “I'm following my path, and my path is different than anybody else's." That belief has taken concrete form before. Several years ago, she won an Indy Arts Council public neighborhood grant and partnered with her friend and entrepreneur Amanda Belcher to put on Culture Fest — a free, day-long festival celebrating the Black community in Indianapolis, with bands, poets, jazz musicians, MCs, artists, and vendors. More than a dozen local artists got paid work out of it. "It was such a proud moment." She's candid, too, about the gap she sees locally. While organizations like the Indiana Arts Commission are dedicated to supporting artists, "Indianapolis is unfortunately behind other major cities in their investment in the arts. We need to see our state and local government putting more money behind it." Coming home to Fort Ben For Teresa, playing Arts for Lawrence's Fort Ben Cultural Campus isn't just another date on the calendar. It's a homecoming with people she admires. "There's so many great artists I love that come through Fort Ben. It's really a fun thing to be on a list among folks like Bashiri Asad, Stephanie Allen-Stevenson, and Blackberry Jam." What she loves most is what a free show makes possible. "People can just pull up and have a good time. We can vibe together. It's Friday. We can celebrate that we're here, hear some good music, and have a communal time." She believes in what that kind of gathering can do, quietly, for people who need it. "You never know how much somebody might need just to sit down and listen to some music for free. It could change somebody's entire day, which could change somebody's trajectory. You never know the way that coming together can touch people." Teresa Reynolds and the Slicktones perform Friday, July 10 at 6:30 p.m. at Arts for Lawrence's Fort Ben Cultural Campus, 8950 Otis Ave. Alongside Teresa, the band features Mina Keohane on keys, Poncho Hedrick on bass, Matthew Dupree on drums, and Joshua Ginder on guitar. The concert is part of the Fridays at the Fort series, sponsored by Arts for Lawrence.

Brandon Meeks is bringing jazz home — one Sunday at a time. Brandon Meeks will tell you he's not a household name, although many jazz aficionados would likely disagree with that. "I've had a pretty successful career as a jazz artist," he says, "but I'm not like a celebrity jazz musician or anything." Household name or not, Meeks is something rarer — a full-time working artist who has spent more than 20 years building something real — performing and collaborating in Indianapolis and neighboring regions where great music gets made and mostly goes unnoticed. And this summer, he's bringing all of it to Arts for Lawrence on the Fort Ben Cultural Campus. Jazz Concert Series Starting in June, Meeks will curate and perform in the 3rd Sunday Jazz Concerts, a free monthly series hosted by Arts for Lawrence. Bring a lawn chair. Bring your kids. Bring your friends and neighbors. The first concert is on June 21, followed by performances on July 19 and August 16. "I want families and people who maybe can't get into a jazz club to be able to experience something cool," Meeks says. "No cover charge, no drink minimum, no babysitter required. Just a Sunday afternoon and something worth showing up for." The series runs three Sundays through the summer. The first concert will feature Meeks in a trio format alongside pianist William Menefield and drummer Cassius Goens. The remaining two shows will expand into a quintet, with original compositions and new work premiering throughout. A stew of different vibes Meeks has long been fascinated by what happens when musicians from different cities share a stage. It's not just geography. It's sound, he says. "Indianapolis has a laid-back, self-assured approach," he explains. "Chicago has this urgency, this rich history of avant-garde jazz. Cincinnati has its own thing. Louisville has something else entirely." Combine them, he says, and you get something that none of those scenes could produce alone. "It's like pulling flavors and seasoning from different sources. The combination is what makes it unique." His own sound reflects a similar kind of mixing. Raised in Gary, Indiana, Meeks grew up surrounded by gospel music, hip hop, and soul — a mother who had him in church four days a week, a DJ brother spinning hip hop, an older brother who introduced him to the deep roots of Black music. All of it lives in how he plays jazz today, even when the form is acoustic and straight-ahead. That upbringing also shaped his vision for what a jazz concert can feel like. "The kind of family gatherings we would have when I was a kid … we'd be out at the park, and there would be music in the air, and people just coming together," he says. "Really enjoying each other, as well as enjoying the music. And really just celebrating our culture as Black Americans." That's the atmosphere he's after at Fort Ben — what he describes as "the combination of an outdoor cookout and a scaled-down, more relaxed jazz festival vibe." The stories that don't get told In 2025, Meeks created Unsung Giants — a nationally touring performance project built around conversations with under-recognized jazz artists. The idea was to find the musicians who filled in the gaps of the national jazz narrative, capture their stories, and turn them into new music. "Indianapolis is known for Freddie Hubbard and Wes Montgomery," he says. "But I feel like that's just the tip of the iceberg. There are so many stories and so much history that don't get told on a national level but that I feel are equally important." He was also clear about what he didn't want the project to be. "The spirit of jazz was always moving forward. I didn't want this to be a nostalgia exercise. I wanted it to be something that fuels and pushes the music into the future by keeping it rooted in its history." The project also reflects something personal. Meeks spent nearly a decade as a graphic designer before making the leap to full-time musician — a decision born less from confidence than from necessity. He'd been laid off from ad agencies multiple times, each time because a firm was too dependent on a single client. Eventually the logic became unavoidable: if stability isn't what the nine-to-five is actually giving you, maybe it's worth betting on yourself. "I had built up a strong network, strong relationships, a well-rounded career," he says. "I just hadn't made the leap yet." He made it. And because he did, he talks to other artists now — honestly, without the usual cheerleading — about the hard work and networking it actually takes. Carrying Indiana Avenue forward The 3rd Sunday Jazz Concerts are rooted in something older than Meeks himself. Indiana Avenue — once the cultural and musical heart of Black Indianapolis — shaped the musicians who shaped him. Mentors like Clifford Ratliff and Melvin Rhyne came from that world and passed parts of it on to younger musicians. "That history has to live in people," Meeks says, "because it doesn't physically live in the geographical location anymore." He's thinking about the next generation too. You never know, he points out, who's standing in that crowd on a Sunday afternoon — which kid will grow up to be a patron of the arts, an artist themselves, or someone who starts building their own cultural experiences. "You never know who may become your next patron of the arts because they were exposed to these experiences as a young child," he says. "Or who the next crop of artists will be. Or who will see what I'm doing and start creating other cultural experiences. "This was inspired by things I saw in my younger years," he adds. "I'm just trying to push that inspiration forward." 3rd Sunday Jazz Concerts Curated and performed by Brandon Meeks Fort Ben Cultural Campus | Free and open to the public. Bring a lawn chair. Food trucks on site. Visit Arts for Lawrence for dates and details.

Eleven artists. One resilient vision. An open invitation to create. There's a plant called the thistle that blooms under extraordinary conditions. It grows where it isn't expected to. It thrives in environments that weren't designed for it. And yet … it flowers. That's the spirit behind THSSL: A Juneteenth Jubilee Art Exhibition of Creative Resiliency, and it's the lens through which Arts for Lawrence artist-in-residence Andre Parnell sees the Black artists who create and exhibit here in Indiana. Artist Andre Parnell will lead an exhibition and self-portrait experience during THSSL, an art exhibition during Juneteenth celebrations at Arts for Lawrence. "They're making an impact in an environment that wasn't really set up for us," says Parnell, who also is a community activist, mentor, muralist, youth arts educator, and designer. "I compare them to the thistle in their resiliency." The Event On Saturday, June 13, from 4–8 p.m., Arts for Lawrence invites the community inside the campus at 8920 Otis Ave. to experience THSSL — an intimate art exhibition featuring eleven artists whose work reflects the depth, beauty, and endurance of the Black creative tradition. The exhibition runs alongside the Juneteenth Jubilee Celebration at the Fort Ben Cultural Campus, offering a quieter counterpoint to the outdoor festivities. Think of it as a place to step out of the heat, slow down, and spend real time with exceptional art. In addition to Parnell, featured artists include Rhonda Greene, Gary Gee, Ess McKee, Johnson Simon, Amber Jointer, Senequa Curbelo, Onye Obama-Ndika, Sharon Bonner, Cierra Johnson, and LaNiah Reed. THSSL is co-presented by Arts for Lawrence, Artists At Work, and Lawrence Speaks. Come In. Create Something. This isn't just a viewing experience — it's an invitation to participate. Parnell will be upstairs in the studio throughout the event, leading an ongoing community self-portrait class as a part of his Lawrence Speaks project, a larger community portrait developed during his time with the Artists At Work program. No art experience required. The idea is simple: you show up, and he helps you figure out who you are on paper. "I often do these exercises without mirrors," he says. "I ask questions that get to the I am of a person — to help them visualize who they are." Sometimes that looks like a face. Sometimes it's a gradient of color. Sometimes it's something abstract that just says, this is me — and that, Parnell says, is completely valid. Arts for Lawrence volunteers will circulate during the outdoor celebration, inviting people to come upstairs and take part. Groups will rotate through the studio in sessions throughout the afternoon and evening. It's free, it's open, and it might surprise you. More Than an Exhibition For Parnell, this event is about connection — between artists, between communities, and between the arts ecosystem in Lawrence and the wider public who may not yet know it exists. His hope is that someone who walks through the door on June 13 sees a path, not just into the gallery, but into the creative life of this community. "I enjoy connecting the greater art community to the ecosystem of Lawrence," he says. "The art space here." Join Us THSSL: A Juneteenth Jubilee Art Exhibition of Creative Resiliency Date: Saturday, June 13 | 4–8 p.m. Location: Fort Ben Cultural Campus | 8920 Otis Ave. | Lawrence, Indiana Co-presented by Arts for Lawrence, Artists At Work, and Lawrence Speaks