This image speaks deeply to my childhood subconscious memories of similar absorption in spooky fantasy while home alone in a dimly lit room, surrounded by phantasms awakened by my impressionable imagination. And actually it is not so far from what I experience even now and then these days in my cozy little library.
She's reading Grimm's Goblins, with Arabian Nights and Lancashire Witches in her stack.
Why not post a photo of your library?
I love this picture. I've seen it before, and I have it posted on a library related tumblr. I experience that same sense when reading, but I know you are speaking of a larger experience, perhaps, eyes wide open, shadows and mystery...
Yes, eyes wide open, like a waking dream, which I recall having—one of those vivid dreams that could be mistaken for reality. My childhood was strange that way.
This picture was the first thing I saw on coming to your blog. There are two things about it that strike me. First, it is a part of my memory of childhood, too, whether real or imagined, an illustration of security that one does not experience as an adult. The other point is that while the feminists are dredging up female artists of questionable ability from the past, they are mostly ignoring the rich vein of women illustrators, probably because some snobbery suggests that they are not REAL artists.
I love your blog. It is a source of both pleasure and knowledge. For me, you have a wonderfully catholic taste. Remember you are talking to people like me, who love drawing and painting, but often don't know how things work technically. For instance, drawing our attention to the way fabric has been illustrated in different mediums was a useful guide to something I might have overlooked while enjoying the overall illustration.
Thanks again. Terry Shannon
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