A few days ago I was contacted by Bob Patrick, who it turns out lives just a few miles down the road in Frankfort, Kentucky. He wanted to know about my "official logo" pictured not only to the left of this blog entry, but also at the top of every page on This Lamp. Bob liked the graphic, wondered if I created it, and wanted to know if I'd give permission for its use. Well, I'd like to claim it as mine, but I did not create it. It's actually from Microsoft's online clip-art collection accessible from just about any MS Office program. I found it a while back--about a year ago, in fact--to use as a simple illustration in one of my posts. A friend of mine suggested that I use it as the site logo and the rest is history.

So this past Saturday, I received another email from Bob in which he offered his own meditation and interpretation on the graphic. I was so moved, I asked him if I could repeat it here for my readers. Here is what Bob wrote:

It is early (5: 57 a.m.) and I just made some coffee. If you don’t mind, I am going to pass along a few thoughts that the lamp image brings to mind.

Nowadays, libraries tend to be open spaces with big windows, big tables, and lots of computers. They are as much a place to congregate and access databases as anything. This has not always been the case.

Gone, particularly in library facilities built in the last thirty years, are the nooks and crannies, winding halls and archways, and solid oak furniture. Gone are the spaces you can retreat from the world and absorb—much more than mere read—the thought of another writer. Gone is the tunnel where your mind connects with another mind through some kind of portal.

The image you found at Microsoft hints at the lost portal. First, the image presents the best wallpaper there is for the portal—the spines of books. The winding hall and archway of the image lets you know you walked through a portal to a nook and cranny. And the lamp in the image casts a protective wall around your space. Here the warmth and glow of the lamp lights the tunnel your mind travels to meet another mind in a book—a Box Of Organized Knowledge. You open the door and take the important step as you open the book and turn the page. The only sound you hear is the crinkle of the page.

All this requires the wallpaper, the winding hall and archway, the nook and cranny, and the small lamp. Rick, the image you found tells me that and much more. Have a good journey the next time you find yourself at this portal.

Bob Patrick
Frankfort, KY

Thanks, Bob!