Sometimes when I’m running errands, I like to pop into my local church and just sit. I’m not particularly religious, but I overthink my day, say thanks and sometimes – when I’m in an exceptionally spiritual mood – I chat with the universe.
There is something lovely about churches (and mosques and temples, for that matter). They hold a quiet. A piece of mind. A just sit and be. A welcome home.
I closed my eyes.
That’s when I noticed it. The church – which is under renovation – didn’t smell like the usual candles or incense. It smelled like paint. It smelled like an artists atelier, complete with a hint of dust on the floor and soft filtered light floating through matte windows.
Brussels airport felt very strange: full of heavy armed soldiers and long, dysfunctional queues of people waiting to be let through for check-in. The line for Turkish Airlines was by far the longest in the improvised departure hall. It seemed that most other big airlines had moved back to the main building, but TA hag to stay amongst lots of smaller airlines, many of which I had never heard before. In the end, everything went smooth though. After an agonizing flight (I never seem to get used to 14 hours on planes), a surprisingly smooth immigration check and a convenient MRT ride, I soon found myself exploring the streets of Singapore’s China Town.
The first place of worship I walked past was a bright green Mosque that had already closed for the night. The second was a Hindu temple that was full of light and life. Although the building wasn’t that impressive, inside a man was playing loudly on a long, gold coloured flute. The noise (because it didn’t sound much like music to me) carried far beyond the mosque and I imagined it could have easily charmed a 100 snakes all at once, yet there weren’t any. I took of my shoes and wandered inside, where people stood in rows to watch the main shrine.
Not much seemed to happen, but none the less the spectators stayed and stared. I wondered for a second if it was the people who got hypnotized by the flute?
This is my recording of the afternoon call to prayer (Asr) of the Blue Mosque and the Aya Sofia in Istanbul, Turkey. As you can hear, both buildings are too close to each other to sing independently – it would sound like a mess – and so they sing a duet. The beautiful Blue Mosque leads, and the ancient Aya Sofia follows.
My take on the world and the things I love. Prominently among them: travel, art and the ordinary. I share my discovery of our beautiful world, my self and the arts I'm trying to develop (photography, sketching and writing) in a way that is both honest and poetic. Please join my journey.