Sitting, working, studying Italian in the North room of the New York City Public Library Rose Reading room since this morning made me suddenly slouch back in my chair, lean my head against the back and stare up blankly to shake the stupor of Cellini from my mind- on that another time.
That was when I actually noticed how beautiful the ceiling is, though undoubtedly I have stared at it before. The windows on each side seem to reach the ceiling with their arches but leave room for several feet of white stone. Is it marble, I don't know but think not. I could learn more about decorative archiecture and tell you about the various patterns that line the edge of the wall and ceiling until this expanse of ornate wood panellin, decorated with gold, and deep forest green abound. There are three rectangular sections, and I am at the bottom edge of one so that looking up I see the middle section that is painted like a clear blue sky.
Today is our first day of sunshine in several days here in NYC but the ceiling is always cheerful. I would share a picture but none are allowed here, and though I could sneak one as surely many do, I like the way this room requires presence to appreciate its offerings, its books, its dulled grating of chairs on floors in the silence of computer typing, and so, also, its decoration.
On the third floor of the Schwartzman building, one does occasionally see tourists stop in to gaze. But the best way to enjoy this room is finding something to work hard on so that the books mean help when you need it, and all the sounds dissipate in the murmur of your own thoughts, and the patterned ceiling refreshed strained eyes with a different modality, and a false sky lets hope soar whether outdoors or in your soul it rains.
Too bad more places of knowledge do not provide this visual setting because it is inspirational, which is why, having shared this, I will return to my own studies...
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