When I was in college I spent a few months studying Blake manuscripts as a reader in the British Museum. The other patrons looked as if they'd been in the place for centuries, practically mummified, yet when I'd leave the room, on my return I'd often find smutty notes waiting for me. "I dream of your white breasts..." Furious, I'd glare from desk to desk hoping to spot the culprit but every eye was down; all were absorbed in scholarship.
This is one of a series of ongoing paintings about libraries. Punk girls hanging out in the stacks, homeless men bathing in the washroom, risque librarians showing a little leg.