October 2, 2013
If you don’t like churches, don’t go to Venice. There must be a thousand, from tiny little niche tabernacles to huge crumbling domed cathedrals. You might walk by one, and someone will be singing you a choral chant. You might be taken by a waft of frankincense, and step into the darkness over the worn entrance stone, a choir practicing in the wavering candlelight, reflecting off the shadowy forms of stone carved saints. You might get caught up in a wedding erupting from a church, a shower of confetti raining down. Or you might simply step into one for the quiet, and let the peace fall around your shoulders, the darkness: out of the noonday sun. You certainly don’t have to be catholic to enjoy their ancient perfumed gloom.
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