There is a long memory in the dusty, heavy light of an old library, and a deep memory in its shadows. There is a sense that when you step inside you are entering a piece of the world that is enclosed for the sacred containment of remembrances and dreams. The library books I take home from such places have that same feeling. I think that's why I always liked borrowing books even more than buying them. They come with the ambience of the library.
My personal style changes often, for I am a little lost perhaps in a world that looks nothing like the one I grew up in. The truth is, my real style is old library. Dust and quiet. Memory and dreaming. Rooms that still have all their old ghosts. Longing for the stories of centuries ago. It is a style that sounds like shoes going quietly on wooden or marble floors. It smells of paper and ink. And it includes thrills such as writing your name on the list of borrowers at the back of a book, amongst the names of kindred spirits.
Most of the old libraries are gone from my part of the world. But we can be what we want for ourselves.