What I Learned After Applying to the Same Fellowship Three Times
Lessons on how to do more by doing less
Last week, something incredible happened — I was a finalist for a prestigious fellowship.
It was already a good day. I’d just returned from a long but productive meeting with an electrician about the lighting plan for my latest permanent public art piece. I was getting ready to take my son to a playdate with a crew of loud, happy 8-year-olds when I casually checked my email — and there it was.
I was a finalist. Not just any fellowship — that fellowship. The one I’d applied for twice before, back in 2013 and again in 2019. I hadn’t remembered applying this time (turns out I did, late last year), but I definitely remembered the sting of past rejections. And now, in 2025, I was a finalist.
I sat there, thinking. What did I write? When exactly did I submit it? My mind was spinning.
Making Space for the Win
If you’ve read my recent article about the universe conspiring, you’ll know I’ve been in a bit of a creative fog lately. But this moment — this email — reminded me why I stay in the game, why I keep showing up, even when things feel uncertain.
This is what the granting organization wrote:
Additionally, you should be proud to know that you have been selected from a highly competitive pool; from the 3,672 applications, we received 218 applications in this category, and we selected only 11 Fellowships and 3 finalists.
Why I Think I Got It This Time
Looking back, I can see that there were several reasons why I won this grant.
For one, I included an optional cultural statement — a section many applicants skip. In hindsight, that statement offered a clear and personal explanation of why my work looks and feels the way it does. Maybe that’s what caught their attention. Perhaps that’s what finally connected.
My day-to-day life is packed. I write. I freelance. I have two little kids, a creaky old house that always needs cleaning or fixing, and I make large-scale public art. So, how did I even manage to apply for this fellowship, let alone be a finalist?
Since I last applied, I hadn’t created more work. If anything, I had stepped back from doing public art. So what had changed? I think I figured it out.