I grew up in the country, with the choice of asking Mom to drive me or riding my bike if I wanted to go somewhere. (One did not bother Dad, because he was working; we were Mom’s work.) She rarely denied me when I asked her to take me to the library 2-4 miles away (we moved closer when I was in 6th grade), which was (and is) very small.

It was a challenge to find new books to read in that tiny building, but I never gave up trying. We either didn’t know about or didn’t have the option of ordering books from other county libraries as we do now. And I remember the first time I went to the library in the big town instead of the little burg—it was mind-boggling in its enormity. So many books, so little time!

Over a year ago, I was asked to paint an outdoor mural on the library of my youth. Within a week, I drove there with sketch paper and a tape measure. I met the librarian, who turns out to be a close friend of my sister-in-law. (Welcome to Tulare County, and never talk bad about anyone!)

Immediately, I began scouring my memory for ideas, and without knowing the budget, I came up with 3 versions—each one emphasizing different aspects of that nondescript rural unincorporated town, and different sizes for pricing options.

Alas, the Asker didn’t return my phone calls. I saw him in person, he apologized, and then still didn’t follow up. So, I let go of that dream.

Several months later, the Arts Consortium put out a Call-To-Artists, for not one, but TWO murals on the library of my youth. WHAT?? That was supposed to be MY mural.

Allll-righty-then, at least I had a headstart. I designed a second one, did the best presentation sketch possible, and even wrote an (unasked for) explanation and a (also unasked for) heartfelt statement about why I am the most qualified for this particular project. I met the deadline, and then waited to hear when I could begin. (Can you say “overconfident”?)

The deadline to notify the winner came and went. Silence. I asked the Arts Consortium who got the job, and the reply was that the selection committee was unable to meet. More months passed, and I asked again. This time the answer was that the selection committee was unable to decide.

I gave up, let go, moved on, while wondering what in the world is wrong with organizations and why I allow them to waste my time. I lost the big Catholic church murals—might as well add this to the pile of missed opportunities, and make a note to just deal with individuals in the future, rather than large outfits.

Then, 14 months after I was asked to paint a mural on the library of my youth, the Arts Consortium emailed that I HAVE BEEN CHOSEN FOR THE JOB!!

Stay tuned to see the sketches, hear the explanations, and learn when it will begin.