Originally uploaded by Mor (bcnbits)
The placement of this building strikes me as similar to that of the San Francisco de Asis church in Ranchos de Taos: out of.
The photographer has carefully cropped out what looks to be an apartment or at least a building of lesser character. You run into the same challenge in Ranchos. This lovely church is right in the middle of a neighborhood and what passes for a strip mall in Ranchos. It must be necessity or familiarity that cause this to happen. How could one not notice the inherent beauty in structures of this caliber then give them room to breath? At San Francisco you are lucky that cars aren’t parked along the perimeter. And that photoshop can do wonders with powerlines.
This is a building you would love to imbibe. What advantage lies in such a sinuous form? That can’t possibly be useful? What would it feel like to step onto the lofty portico and then into the cool interior? Your eyes would wait for the light to adjust and then struggle to assimilate the wavering colors as the long room to your left faded in and out of focus with each serpentine bend. It would be cool inside, like the skin of a snake.
The space to the right would have an opening like the valves in your heart. Two circular walls swooping together but missing just as they draw tangent. You would only see a sliver of the chamber beyond. It would be bright. But you’d stay away. Or at least not dart in.
You would walk directly to the nearest part of the cylindrical wall across from your entrance. Your hand would reach out. Touch as high as possible then drift to your lowest reach. Before long you’d realize you were drifting to the gap, your fingers caressing the rhythmic tile. Your gait makes each step closer to the gap strum in your fingers.
Incense wrinkles your nose. It’s a lemony smoke that you can’t believe you didn’t notice sooner. Your spirit draws you to the gap, but it’s too important not to locate the censer. You pause. You turn. Like an animal you locate it with your nose.
Cool air rushes from the gap like a window has been opened on the opposite side of of the building. A pleased murmur follows on the breeze.
You are close enough to the gap now that your right hand contacts the other half of the wall. You take a few more steps and feel your arms and body and soul constrict. Stepping into the next room you find something you didn’t expect. You are not alone. You never were.
Uncountable people prostrate themselves in the two concavities to either side of you.