The arched ceilings confuse; their intricate brickwork and vulumptious and fluttering curves give the impression of some medieval scholary and temptation, but their white wash looks like architecture dropped on its head, from the present. The spring will soon be upon us and what was I looking for? Enlightenment?
The night was teasing; the carols were beautiful and every bit as nice as I remember, and there is something, as a music journalist, that is naturally mindblowing about a choir. Even in the obvious choices lay beauty and love; the crossovers in ‘Ding Dong Merrily On High’ wrapped me up in a shivering bubble last experienced in the depths of a techno night; except here the effect was reached with just the voices of a crowd of people; unamplified, amazed. I look down to the candle below and the tears of wax drip down through the card protector, and lightly burn my fingers beneath.
There were more that blew me away but I listened with intent during the stories; the basis of Christianity; something I have a great interest in. Everyone I know of my age condemns religion. There is little middle ground amongst my age bracket, not many who are nonchalant toward it. I have an interest almost because of that reason; and because my family is, on the other had, rather religious.
I’m tempted to go the whole hog and get ‘the complete history of Christianity’ and then soon just becoming a recluse and reading it cover to cover. I look down to the candle now, and as I find I haven’t had the awakening perhaps I dreamt of, or perhaps imagined would happen, I simply see the wax bleed and bubble; quickly rushing down its own neck. No; there is no change; all that I can do is enjoy the music, as my mind drifts to pinnacle moments of religion related west wing.
Highly enjoyable evening.