Mulvane Public Library, Mulvane, Kansas

This is IT. I've found it.

The Mulvane Public Library is Perfection. Wrapped in vibrant color. And sunlight. It glows. At night, unicorns graze its lawns.

I've already been back once, and my opinion has only grown stronger--I love this library so much, I may cry at it. This is sure to cause no alarm to the staff of a small town library, the vision of a woman sobbing in the parking lot. Surely no cops will be called.

In any case, I really can't oversell this place. Its mindful aesthetics are meant to knock your bobbysocks off, no doubt, and the fact that it was only completed last year (2016) contributes to its overall unblemished SHININESS. And it is oh so delicious and shiny and as modern as you could dream.

My love for the Mulvane Public Library started where all love blooms, on the surface, based on nothing more than how striking, fun, and joyful the place seemed on the outside, and this just driving into the parking lot (which features the tinniest, most twee roundabout I have ever seen). I actually yelled, I was so taken aback with Instant Infatuation. But it got better.

This next part you will make a face. You will point or maybe gesture with a Special Finger. You will say ugly things. Because you are a rain soaked city dweller and your soul is half dead and only kicks the herky jerky when you see something True and Real with your own, two cirrhotic eyes. But I swear to Golly, this really did happen.

I walked up to the door, hauling my usual bag of nonsense (known as a "purse"), laptop, and venti iced coffee...and something flitted by my face. I was looking at the charming bronze statue of a little girl reading--a sweet and perfect choice for this place--and was vaguely aware of the planters with flowers growing all around, but was not prepared for what happened next by any stretch.

Okay. Side note. This is important, all jokes about my city dwelling brethren aside. I was, after all, the cirrhotic one. I was the suffering wraith. I will probably never share here the depths of just how bad it got, but suffice it to say that I was at the bottom of a very dark pit with no hope of escape. If my own body hadn't betrayed/saved me by sending me to the emergency room (twice), God knows where I would be, now 3 years later (my 3 year anniversary was September 10, by the way, just a week ago!). I could never have endeavored to take these trips--the planning alone would have been a nonstarter--let alone appreciate the things I've seen, the experiences I've had. It is moments like this that stop me dead in my tracks to take inventory and let myself feel the staggering wave of joy and gratitude for getting out of that black hole and turning, ever so slowly it seems sometimes, back into a Genuine Person.

As I turned from the statue of the little girl and toward the planters and front door, a flurry of butterflies flew up and around me. They were everywhere. And God Bless my Dorky Ass, I stopped and grinned and whirled and watched them as they found new spots to roost, settling down more or less from the disturbance. I know this is some Disney tomfoolery, but I cannot remember the last time I saw a butterfly, let alone so many of them in one place. I think I saw a monarch and yellow ones for sure and that is the beginning and end of my entomological survey of the situation. It was wonderful. (For more on why butterflies are happening, click here.)

The deliberate placement of those planters of course made me think, "Nice touch, Mulvane Public Library," but who knows if they had any idea of the eventual effect when they were laying out their grand plans. Part of me thinks they might have...most of me couldn't care less.

I walked into the library and immediately recognized that Ipod aesthetic I've reported on since my library adventures began. Steve Jobs was our Aesthetics Oracle, apparently, and has Writ that our Future will be White and Smooth. Just ahead of the main doors were the bathrooms (nice, functional, clean) and to the right I could see the computer room, which is its own little aquarium unto itself.

At the end of foyer, I turned right and into the main library, a vision of a vision of a vision. My infatuation started growing roots, and I propelled myself through the door with a purely idiotic expression on my face. It said I love you. It said Marry Me. It said Hi I'm A Freak. I LOVE YOU. And I'm pretty sure library staff have grown accustomed to this multitudinous expression, because a nice woman behind the desk asked if I needed help with anything.

Every person I've encountered at the Mulvane Public Library seems genuinely happy to be there--they are a lively, warm group--and the first woman I met was probably the friendliest of them all. She took me on a small tour based on my goals (I wish to write, please and thank you) and was extremely helpful and kind. A lot of people can do customer service--if you have any sort of theatrical instincts in you, you can slay customer service--but there's a difference between professional warmth and genuine warmth. And this lady was 100% genuine.

I took pictures as I walked around, oohing and ahhing at the beautiful stylings, the good intentions, and the care they took in putting the place together. There were lots of lovely "little touches," like the puzzle set out for anyone to work on, and the recessed, pop-up outlets set right in the study tables. They made sure that the main window bays were reserved for comfy, welcoming seating.

The atmosphere is open, accommodating, and comfortable. The filtered light from outdoors is perfect, even on cloudy days. When the school kids started filtering in, the noise was intermittent and easy to ignore. I got the impression that the Mulvane Public Library staff bent over backwards, into a handstand, double twisting forward into a front flip to make sure kids are not only accommodated for the things they need (resources for school, for example) but are indulged as much as a public service budget would allow. The staff is very generous with access to meeting rooms--they offered one up to me in case I thought it was too loud, and on my next visit I saw a whole gaggle of kids in one of the meeting rooms, all set up for a day long campaign (D&D type thing, though what it was exactly I couldn't tell). I also witnessed one staff member showing a teeny tyke, maybe 4, where to find the books you could take home forever (there was a part of the library where books were for sale for almost nothing--a quarter a piece, I believe). In each endeavor, the social exchange was nothing short of friendly and efficient.

The Mulvane Public Library is the type of environment people dream about when they are matriculating in library sciences. My brain hasn't sprouted iridescent wings and flown up into the silvery lined heavens, so I know there's probably friction behind the scenes, one barnacle irritating the hide of the magically smooth blue whale, and who knows what's up with admin, but I can tell staff members are fiercely proud of their beautiful new library. At closing, they went around checking to make sure computers were shut down, cleaned table tops, straightened chairs, etc. I would never suggest this is singular to this library, but if you've ever worked at a place where morale is low and cohesion is non-existent, it shows in the environment you share. Things can get very brokedown palace and it is sad.

The view from my seat.

There was nothing sad about the Mulvane Public Library. It was a joy just to be there. When I return from the second leg of my trip, I know where I'll be spending some quality writing time. 

Last, but never least, the framed work placed on the wall just behind the space where I set up shop. The prints--which look like originals to me--are by renowned and prolific artist Birger Sandzén (1871-1954) and were a donation from the Mulvane Federated Women's Club, the very same ladies who established the Mulvane Library in the first place, all the way back in 1921 (x). There is no explanation of the photographs alongside the art, though one photograph appears to capture the original library and the other photograph may be the very members of that inspired and industrious women's club who saw a need, got the work done, and led us all the way up to now. I swoon just wondering what they would think of 2016's library. Something tells me they would swoon, too.