The used chapel

Sometimes, when my world is loud, when the color is off, or the air smells funny, or quiet is a word from a foreign language that I seem to have forgotten how to speak, I like to walk to the chapel on the other side of the street. It’s quieter there, in the wide open air. When the ceiling creaks overhead, it sounds like a man in wooden shoes is dancing on the roof, and the piano plays like heaven. I love that piano. The clearest culmination of beauty, though, is the sunlight.

IMG_2186 IMG_2188 IMG_2190 IMG_2193 chapel light_1 chapel light_2 chapel, post-lamp chapel, pre-lamp IMG_1862 IMG_1863 IMG_1864 IMG_1865 IMG_1867 IMG_1871 IMG_1877 IMG_2171 IMG_2174 IMG_2175 IMG_2178 IMG_2180 IMG_2181

When a man has nothing but the sunlight, a piano, and God, he has everything.

p.s. words in italics are seuss’.


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