While rearranging I discovered a few surprises, one being that each stack has a life of its own and many require a delicate touch. These are more than just piles of books, but an exercise in balance and quiet control, thoughtfulness. One does not just take a book from the shelf. One must handle softly, move, rearrange, stack and re-stack. The shelves become ever an ever-changing work of art.
Less than 15 minutes after finishing, one faculty member froze in his tracks outside my door then spent nearly 10 minutes commenting on the fresh look. He mentioned that he, too, might do the same and he would call me for advice. I refused to help, not because of the workload (there's not much, really--and it's quite fun), but the experience is singular for the bibliophile.
Disarray under control.
Oh, and did I mention how much shelf space opened up with this new arrangement?