I dream about a certain bookstore/library sometimes.
It’s not one I’ve seen in real life, but a combination of all the ones I’ve ever known. It always has the kind of books I am interested in: fantasy and science fiction, art and design, sociology and science and history and all the weird ways these intersect. Every book is fascinating, weighty, and colorful. I am always browsing and always delighted, making note of them for future checkout or purchase.
The books are arranged in a logical way on multiple levels and several floors, with narrow stairways running up and down. It’s dim and narrow in this place, but a comforting dim, not a threatening one. It’s equal parts childhood public library, The Strand bookstore in NYC, and cramped academic archive. It’s never crowded.
Unlike real life, I can read the spines without my reading glasses and browse inside the covers. That’s the best thing.
Also unlike real life, I have all the time in the world.
These Midjourney pictures are the closest I can some to recreating it.
