On Towers

Being the bizarre child I was, before I found that I actually held a talent for drawing, I spent much of my free time devising plans for castles and mansions or graphing maps of imaginary nations. This was all fueled by the lives I followed in the countless novels I was attached to. I can't even begin to list them. The farthest back I can go in naming the books I've read is probably Harry Potter, and I only first crossed paths with him in middle school. Before that I read anything and everything I could get my hands on. I would stop to read the fine print on advertisements, much to the chagrin of my mother when she was in a hurry. This is probably why I spent so much time on the end of a leash as a child. I had an insatiable curiosity, but I never had to be told to not touch anything.

One of my dreams as a child was to have a tower. I was considering today how differently I perceive that ever coveted sanctuary. When I was young and drawing up the floor plans to the perfect house in which my family would reside, this tower was rather Victorian. It wasn't MY tower, it was merely a rounded part of the house that is... called something I'm sure, but I can't begin to be bothered with architectural vocabulary at the moment. All I needed was a section of my room where I could sit and be surrounded by windows.

Today my tower is much more isolated and cozy. It happens also that it's very dark on the inside. Today this tower is an independent entity. It stands at least four storeys, and is about ten feet in diameter. There are no windows. All that stands in the tower is an overstuffed chair, accompanied by a table with a lamp on it. On the walls are books, two and a half storeys of books. There is a ladder on a track that runs 'round the room. At the top of that is some old ship rigging, perfect for using to climb up to the ceiling where there is a trap door in the center. Beyond this door is another room barely tall enough to stand in, and full of pillows and draped in rich Oriental fabrics. Solitude within solitude.

I wonder what brought the drastic change from windows to books?