Shades of Milk and HoneyBook - 2011
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I dream of a day when it is possible to move images from one location to the next without the human effort of clasping tight to keep the folds from unraveling. Were that possible, then a gallery could be created so that arts such as these were not only the provenance of the wealthy, but that all men might be lifted up by exposure to this, the most ephemeral of arts.... I imagine a day when it will be possible to create an image in one place and have it be seen instantly in another." (p. 164)
The room had vanished, its walls replaced entirely by arching trees; the ceiling, a sky overhead which shimmered with the light of stars and the moon. The trees rustled in response to a conjured breeze, which carried with it hints of jasmine and the pleasant, spicy scent of loam. The brook, which had so entranced her at the ball, continued its babbling, but now it was accompanied by birdsong from a nightingale that sat on one of the tree branches, singing its melody at exactly the right volume to be unobtrusive in a gathering. (p. 143)
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