The Library

What goes unnoticed in the library is that the books don't have words. It makes sense, because the library is first and foremost a feeling, then its a place, then its a firm handshake. The feeling of libraries—that the world has been thoroughly recorded, ordered, and archived—doesn't require you to open up any books. You can just enjoy them as dusty, promising, burgundy, brown, and dark green. The library feeling is a flirtatious one, with all its witheld knowledge. That explains the plaid skirts, the whispering, the making out, and the arrangement of all the bookcases into winding mazes.