finding the meat of it
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posted by THE MOVING ARCHITECTS on March 31, 2009
We had our first long rehearsal at Epiphany Church last night – in a sanctuary where gold halos on the walls continuously shimmer, where the evening sun enters through the stained glass in tones unimaginable on Sunday mornings, where dancing within immeasurable height and depth naturally provides intent and wonder. As I type, I continue to have a full-body memory - the grittiness, my odd layers of clothing for warmth, Ian on his back listening to his music echo, and my feet are aching still from the old wooden floors. It could have been any year, any city in the world, any day of the year, the familiarity I felt in this religious and historical building. My dad a minister, I was raised in structures – a term I use here both ideologically and architecturally. I was part of the traditions of bible school, Sunday school, youth group, and often visited churches where uncles and a grandfather were ministers and Carlisle’s were always the last to leave. Last to leave meant lingering in the hallways, in the pews, finding the stillnesses of the sanctuary, the velvet red cushions on the seats, patterns of the stones in the isle....
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