A Desert Memory: Rediscovering My Creative Legacy in the Archives of the New York Public Library

I wasn’t expecting to find myself in the archives of the New York Public Library.But there it was—my name, my work, cataloged in one of the world’s most respected cultural institutions.

Years ago, I was invited to submit an original content CD to the NYPL. At the time, I was living in a small mountain town deep in southern Colorado, off-grid in a converted hipppie bus on a farm run by a metalsmith who’d driven his bus west from Woodstock.

Fulfilling that order should have been simple. After all, I had the skills: I’d spent years immersed in digital design, storytelling, and creative production. But back then, life was heavy. I was newly divorced, worrying constantly about how to father my children from a distance, how to pay child support, how to reclaim a career that felt like it was slipping away.

I remember feeling both thrilled and paralyzed by the magnitude of the opportunity. The weight of the institution, the hope for recognition, the nagging fear that I wasn’t enough—it all collided in a kind of slow-motion anxiety.

For a long time, I buried that memory, half-convinced I hadn’t done enough or that the moment had passed me by.

But here’s the truth I see now:The seeds were planted. Even under pressure, even in uncertainty, I showed up. My creative offering lives on in the archives.And that matters.

We don’t always see the impact of our work right away. Sometimes, it takes decades for a small act of expression to circle back, remind us who we are, and encourage us to keep going.

To anyone out there feeling slow, stuck, or invisible: keep planting.Your legacy is already taking root.