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Did I dream it, imagine it? the beauty of a ghost? what kind of whim is this? an illusion, I can't sleep, or am I daydreaming while awake? it's her again, gliding, invisible, transparent, yet still beautiful! beautiful, right? her silks are ephemeral, illusory, flowing in waves behind her, reigning in space arrogantly, superbly, sometimes disappearing as if into memory, only to reappear moments later in a form now visible, but elusive, to the eye, moving along the shelves of ancient books, only the flickering candlelight in the dimness from the bronze candelabrum, the sole source of light, marking her presence, casting reflections on the walls, creating a mood of soul agitation, to the ceiling, and to the narrow staircase, mysteriously arching upwards, to where the secret door hides the world from which she appears, disturbing my peace, sparking thoughts about the perfection of the spirit, searching for the lost book of books, her beauty, in its unknowable phantom nature, captivates, initially frightening, and one can never get used to it.
A full-length vertical photo portrays a woman standing between bookshelves in a library, wearing a long white dress that seems to float and dematerialize near the floor. Her body is angled slightly upwards, and she reaches out with her right hand towards a brass candelabra that has five lit candles. She has her chin tilted upward, looking towards the bookshelf. The background includes tall shelves packed with books, a curved staircase with a dark metal railing, and an arched wooden door at the top of the stairs. A patterned red and blue rug is on the stone floor. A heavy red curtain hangs on the right side. The lighting is dim, primarily coming from the candles on the candelabra, casting warm orange light on the woman and the nearby shelves, while the upper and background areas are in deep shadow.
