The Churches in Madrid are a wonder to see. I would love to visit the Sagrada Familia in Spain. Cathedrals are gorgeous old buildings that were meant for religious sanctity, but can be simply admired for the never aging elegance and beauty.
Liz
She looked up at the cathedral, at it’s intricate design, and gargoyles staring menacingly down onto the world below. A shiver went down her spine. For a place to be so holy and “good”, it certainly seemed unsettling to her. Evil, even.
hello this is Julia here. how are you? i just wanted to get this idea in peoples head; think about you, yourself. being present in this world, at this time, existing doing whatever it is your doing. you actually being here. alive on this “beautiful” planet, and i say that in quotations for a reason. this planet may be beautiful in the sense of looks, such as the “untouched” beauty of nature and wildlife, etc. but in reality, this is hell. this is not real, and no one can prove that it is. it doesn’t make sense and people are cruel and destructive. not only to the earth, this gift we were given to live in and respect, but to each other and to ourselves. what are we doing? what is this? this is crazy. we live in a world where paper is worth something and we all need it to survive in this world. it makes people crazy and greedy and it is the root of evil, i swear. i don’t understand this world. i am scared to be a part of it, yet i am scared to leave it. i am scared of life. i am scared of death. who can you trust? false information is coming at us left, right and center, no way to avoid it. school is stressful and hypnotic in a bad kind of way. it brainwashes children. we don’t need it. we should learn from experiences. not from people who only care about their god damn pay check. school is bullshit. i do not need someone telling me whether or not i am a good writer or a musician or whether or not i can get a good job. i can decide that myself. and i do not need a percent or a number on a piece of paper to tell me whether or not i am smart. what is this world we live in?
i don’t know what else to say…
have fun “living”
Julie
The big cathedral, the one in which I was supposed to marry Cody. My Cody, my cathedral, my wedding – our wedding. It is big, huge even. The decorations are mainly statues and flowers and everything is either a deep red or a brilliant white.
does he hear my prayers? i’d like to think so. I mean, i don’t want physical proof or tangible signs. or maybe I do? anyway, i ask questions, ask for guidance, and hope for the best. i just hope i’m going down the right path, making the right choices, doing the right thing. id like to think someone is up there, guiding me to the right person but a part of me also wonders if we’re really just on our own down here…
SaraLily
A church with a congregation giving praises to God. The priest is present and all the other bishops are around. The sermon takes forever.
Jimmy
isn’t it a church? where people go and worship God..? My family used to go evry saturday not anymore but we still go sometimes… And we were really into church…but i mean we still pray..
Jessica
So I am that of a stained glass window in a Cathedral. When the sun is out I glisten and you can see all of my beautiful colors thanks to the sun shining on me. Yet when it is dark I must depend on my inner light to show of my beautiful coulours.
The cathedral was dark and empty. Ha had seen it this way many times before. He had spent hours and hours of his life in this open building, and spent many hours praying and thinking about his life decisions.
place the road kill in the entrance of the cathedral
let the grated tarmac, the skid mark burned blood
and penny-pressed bones replace the organ, choir
the vicar’s rasp from paper cut lips
The cathedral was dark as the man slowly walked up the aisle. He was deep in thought and was contemplating the biggest decsision of his life. He had spent so much of his life in this catheral, since his dad was the bishop.
Liz Vos
I walked into the abandoned cathedral. Leaves and dirt was scattered on the ragged and worn floor. Tapestries hung in ruins. There was an eerie silence to the once high and mighty worshiping place. The floor boards creaked behind me, I turned around and nearly fainted in terror.
a place where peoplke have died these people are famous limestone is used to make them they are white hand have domes on top of the them. the are getting corroded by acid rain.
hana
My garden is my private green cathedral. I pray to the blooming roses and lilies there while statues of the Virgin, Buddha and Christ look on in stony wonderment.
joan binnie
Melancholy rainbows danced across the crystal floors of the Cathedral, great streaks of ethereal blood spilled by the moon. The Prince tread across them like a war hero, proud of the fallen spectrums splashing across his gold-rimmed feet.
This was his stronghold, his sanctuary: a house of worship dedicated to his own name. He was the angel that watched over it, and he was the deity that walked within it. In this hall of mirrors, he was everything; limitless, transcendent, omnipresent.
He paused, his pale face awash with color, at the largest stained glass window, where an elegantly twisted image of his father beamed down upon him. Devotion blazed to life in his chest, filling his amber-blue eyes with sparks.
I will make you proud, the gilded Prince promised wordlessly, ignorant of the creeping shadows beneath the bleeding light. I promise.
I will become the god you created me to be.
Behind him, the devil waited with infinite patience, a single splinter of color scarring his darkened face.
Soon the kingdom of light would fall, and his hands would have cut the first throat.
He did not smile as he swept forwards, the void about him reaching out to swallow his prey. This death would be just, he swore; this blasphemous act would be a secret saving grace.
For the devil knew, as the Prince turned to him in fear, that an illegitimate Son was no savior at all.
cathedral is a place people gather to pray. to pray for things they have missed for a long time. forgetting what they can, and asking for things they thought once were impossible.
Kamyar Allahverdi
Walking into the majestic cathedral, I noticed the walls were ragged. The once elaborate tapestries were hanging in shreds and were so faded, you could hardly make out the heoric scenes. The floorboards creaked behind me. I quickly turned around and nearly fainted in fright….
Gaia
Melancholy rainbows danced across the crystal floors of the Cathedral, great streaks of ethereal blood spilled by the moon. The Prince tread across them like a war hero, proud of the fallen spectrums splashing across his gold-rimmed feet.
This was his stronghold, his sanctuary: a house of worship dedicated to his own name. He was the angel that watched over it, and he was the deity that walked within it. In this hall of mirrors, he was everything; limitless, transcendent, omnipresent.
He paused, his pale face awash with color, at the largest stained glass window, where an elegantly twisted image of his father beamed down upon him. Devotion blazed to life in his chest, filling his amber-blue eyes with sparks.
I will make you proud, the skeletal Prince promised wordlessly, ignorant of the shadows beneath the bleeding light. I will become the god you created me to be.
Behind him, the devil waited with infinite patience, a single splinter of color scarring his darkened face.
Soon the kingdom of light would fall, and his hands would have cut the first throat.
He did not smile as he swept forwards, the void about him reaching out to swallow his prey. This death would be just, he swore; this blasphemous act would be a secret saving grace.
For the devil knew, as the Prince turned to him in fear, that an illegitimate son was no savior at all.
As I walked into the cathedral, I noticed an eerie silence settling around. The wedding was over, making the party decorations littering the floor look abandoned.
Gaia
It towered over everything else, the white stone it was made of glaring and forbidding. But inside, where no one could see, the stained-glass windows sent patches of color, sunny blue and red and green, all over the tiled white floor.
The tiers reached high, high into the sky. I craned my neck back to see a bird perch on one of the topmost spires. I couldn’t really tell from where I was standing, but something about the bird seemed unsettled, like he couldn’t find a comfortable place to land.
religion. church. god. a place of worship. old. sacred. only for true believers. belief. the almighty. house of god. huge. pretty building. colourful window panes. Cathedral.
Peyton
As she walked into the cathedral, she thought about that day, years ago, when they met. It had been a pleasant day, sunny but not too hot. It was early summer, and they were at a barbecue. Their eyes met and they struck up a conversation. Two years exactly from that day, and her white dress trailed behind her as she walked down to him, tears of joy in her eyes.
She had dreamed of a giant cathedral all her life. Four bluish domes congregated around a much larger, ornate dome. A brick church underneath, with elaborate designs. Stained glass of stately saints with odd eyes. She had dreamed of this cathedral all her life. But she stepped through the wooden doors, and all she could feel was the corruption of the place. There were true believers, but mostly believers of money and possessions and superiority. The beautiful, giant cathedral was a lie.So she went to a small church, a simple wooden one, clean but somewhat homely. There was peace built into the framework. There was no false grandness, only the grandness of the tiny alter. There were true believers. “Home,” she thought, “Home.”
Cathedral. The other day in english class they made me read a short story called “Cathedral”. I never actually read it. I am kind of lazy. But yesterday i saw a cathedral in NY. I did not know there were cathedrals there.
Yasmin
One of 50
Abhineet
In the cathedral there are many people. The broken and the breaking and the in shop. No one is fixed but some might be further along in repairment than others. The tall altars beckon to the wounded and pull them up to healing. Others stay in the pews and pray as if their lives depend on it. WhIch it does in a way because everyone needs something to believe in.
Towering spires, spiraling extraverted, upward, heavanward, word after sound, gigantic record needle, giants toothpick, tickling the roots of heavan, tentative compass needle to the cloudy thrones , single fire pole cherub pole dancer spinning into infinity.
maf
The cathedral cast a shadow along tevery wall of the city. Its spires, almost lethal looking cast and intimidating shadow that pierced the hearts of those gargoyles that stood at its peak. It had been abandoned for over three centuries, since the turn of the Fourth War. In a panic, people of the city flooded its walls in attempt to seek sanctuary, but it could not hold them all and fights broke out. Many died, their blood staining the walls.
Beth
the place where beliefs have a voice – too bad the people ruling that premise don’t allow all beliefs in. They say they do, but i’ve been there, and they didn’t listen to me.
Beautiful photograph.
x
The building was full of light. Bits and splashes of colors came down from the windows, illuminating the entire, ancient room with pieces of colors and lending cheer and beauty to the otherwise plain and rather severe room. Generation after generation had attended here, as would many generations more.
Towering spires of intricate design lean above me. I can hear the bells ringing all to clearly in my mind. The last time I had been here was ages ago. That was the day mom died.
Caroline
They are usually the most profound and visually astonishing pieces of architecture one has the fortune to encounter. Love ’em. That is all.
Stuart Karl Gill
Walk near the cathedral, goose bumps.The feeling is so particular!
Littlebird
The cathedral was damp and dark, leaving one to wonder where all the people had been before entering. Understanding the history of such a place made one queasy, unsettled in the stomach. I had read the stories of the murders, the torture, all that glorified pain and suffering. I never understood it in the flesh, though, and now, being here, I could see how permanent a life could be.
Molly
Estoy de frente a la catedral de México. El aire anuncia una tormenta por venir, y yo solo quiero llegar sana y salva a casa, hundirme en el inframundo del metro, ponerme lejos del alcance de los ladrones y los violadores, dejar un rayo de sol que me guíe hasta mi destino, mi refugio, pero la catedral me amenaza con dolor.
The Churches in Madrid are a wonder to see. I would love to visit the Sagrada Familia in Spain. Cathedrals are gorgeous old buildings that were meant for religious sanctity, but can be simply admired for the never aging elegance and beauty.
She looked up at the cathedral, at it’s intricate design, and gargoyles staring menacingly down onto the world below. A shiver went down her spine. For a place to be so holy and “good”, it certainly seemed unsettling to her. Evil, even.
hello this is Julia here. how are you? i just wanted to get this idea in peoples head; think about you, yourself. being present in this world, at this time, existing doing whatever it is your doing. you actually being here. alive on this “beautiful” planet, and i say that in quotations for a reason. this planet may be beautiful in the sense of looks, such as the “untouched” beauty of nature and wildlife, etc. but in reality, this is hell. this is not real, and no one can prove that it is. it doesn’t make sense and people are cruel and destructive. not only to the earth, this gift we were given to live in and respect, but to each other and to ourselves. what are we doing? what is this? this is crazy. we live in a world where paper is worth something and we all need it to survive in this world. it makes people crazy and greedy and it is the root of evil, i swear. i don’t understand this world. i am scared to be a part of it, yet i am scared to leave it. i am scared of life. i am scared of death. who can you trust? false information is coming at us left, right and center, no way to avoid it. school is stressful and hypnotic in a bad kind of way. it brainwashes children. we don’t need it. we should learn from experiences. not from people who only care about their god damn pay check. school is bullshit. i do not need someone telling me whether or not i am a good writer or a musician or whether or not i can get a good job. i can decide that myself. and i do not need a percent or a number on a piece of paper to tell me whether or not i am smart. what is this world we live in?
i don’t know what else to say…
have fun “living”
The big cathedral, the one in which I was supposed to marry Cody. My Cody, my cathedral, my wedding – our wedding. It is big, huge even. The decorations are mainly statues and flowers and everything is either a deep red or a brilliant white.
does he hear my prayers? i’d like to think so. I mean, i don’t want physical proof or tangible signs. or maybe I do? anyway, i ask questions, ask for guidance, and hope for the best. i just hope i’m going down the right path, making the right choices, doing the right thing. id like to think someone is up there, guiding me to the right person but a part of me also wonders if we’re really just on our own down here…
A church with a congregation giving praises to God. The priest is present and all the other bishops are around. The sermon takes forever.
isn’t it a church? where people go and worship God..? My family used to go evry saturday not anymore but we still go sometimes… And we were really into church…but i mean we still pray..
So I am that of a stained glass window in a Cathedral. When the sun is out I glisten and you can see all of my beautiful colors thanks to the sun shining on me. Yet when it is dark I must depend on my inner light to show of my beautiful coulours.
The cathedral was dark and empty. Ha had seen it this way many times before. He had spent hours and hours of his life in this open building, and spent many hours praying and thinking about his life decisions.
The first cathedral I visited was Glasgow cathedral. It was grand and tall and imposing, and the stereotypical cathedral…
I ran into the ancient cathedral. I had to get away. Being a spy had always helped in situations like this, situations when i had to get away.
place the road kill in the entrance of the cathedral
let the grated tarmac, the skid mark burned blood
and penny-pressed bones replace the organ, choir
the vicar’s rasp from paper cut lips
The cathedral was dark as the man slowly walked up the aisle. He was deep in thought and was contemplating the biggest decsision of his life. He had spent so much of his life in this catheral, since his dad was the bishop.
I walked into the abandoned cathedral. Leaves and dirt was scattered on the ragged and worn floor. Tapestries hung in ruins. There was an eerie silence to the once high and mighty worshiping place. The floor boards creaked behind me, I turned around and nearly fainted in terror.
a place where peoplke have died these people are famous limestone is used to make them they are white hand have domes on top of the them. the are getting corroded by acid rain.
My garden is my private green cathedral. I pray to the blooming roses and lilies there while statues of the Virgin, Buddha and Christ look on in stony wonderment.
Melancholy rainbows danced across the crystal floors of the Cathedral, great streaks of ethereal blood spilled by the moon. The Prince tread across them like a war hero, proud of the fallen spectrums splashing across his gold-rimmed feet.
This was his stronghold, his sanctuary: a house of worship dedicated to his own name. He was the angel that watched over it, and he was the deity that walked within it. In this hall of mirrors, he was everything; limitless, transcendent, omnipresent.
He paused, his pale face awash with color, at the largest stained glass window, where an elegantly twisted image of his father beamed down upon him. Devotion blazed to life in his chest, filling his amber-blue eyes with sparks.
I will make you proud, the gilded Prince promised wordlessly, ignorant of the creeping shadows beneath the bleeding light. I promise.
I will become the god you created me to be.
Behind him, the devil waited with infinite patience, a single splinter of color scarring his darkened face.
Soon the kingdom of light would fall, and his hands would have cut the first throat.
He did not smile as he swept forwards, the void about him reaching out to swallow his prey. This death would be just, he swore; this blasphemous act would be a secret saving grace.
For the devil knew, as the Prince turned to him in fear, that an illegitimate Son was no savior at all.
cathedral is a place people gather to pray. to pray for things they have missed for a long time. forgetting what they can, and asking for things they thought once were impossible.
Walking into the majestic cathedral, I noticed the walls were ragged. The once elaborate tapestries were hanging in shreds and were so faded, you could hardly make out the heoric scenes. The floorboards creaked behind me. I quickly turned around and nearly fainted in fright….
Melancholy rainbows danced across the crystal floors of the Cathedral, great streaks of ethereal blood spilled by the moon. The Prince tread across them like a war hero, proud of the fallen spectrums splashing across his gold-rimmed feet.
This was his stronghold, his sanctuary: a house of worship dedicated to his own name. He was the angel that watched over it, and he was the deity that walked within it. In this hall of mirrors, he was everything; limitless, transcendent, omnipresent.
He paused, his pale face awash with color, at the largest stained glass window, where an elegantly twisted image of his father beamed down upon him. Devotion blazed to life in his chest, filling his amber-blue eyes with sparks.
I will make you proud, the skeletal Prince promised wordlessly, ignorant of the shadows beneath the bleeding light. I will become the god you created me to be.
Behind him, the devil waited with infinite patience, a single splinter of color scarring his darkened face.
Soon the kingdom of light would fall, and his hands would have cut the first throat.
He did not smile as he swept forwards, the void about him reaching out to swallow his prey. This death would be just, he swore; this blasphemous act would be a secret saving grace.
For the devil knew, as the Prince turned to him in fear, that an illegitimate son was no savior at all.
As I walked into the cathedral, I noticed an eerie silence settling around. The wedding was over, making the party decorations littering the floor look abandoned.
It towered over everything else, the white stone it was made of glaring and forbidding. But inside, where no one could see, the stained-glass windows sent patches of color, sunny blue and red and green, all over the tiled white floor.
The tiers reached high, high into the sky. I craned my neck back to see a bird perch on one of the topmost spires. I couldn’t really tell from where I was standing, but something about the bird seemed unsettled, like he couldn’t find a comfortable place to land.
religion. church. god. a place of worship. old. sacred. only for true believers. belief. the almighty. house of god. huge. pretty building. colourful window panes. Cathedral.
As she walked into the cathedral, she thought about that day, years ago, when they met. It had been a pleasant day, sunny but not too hot. It was early summer, and they were at a barbecue. Their eyes met and they struck up a conversation. Two years exactly from that day, and her white dress trailed behind her as she walked down to him, tears of joy in her eyes.
i already wrote about this lol.
She had dreamed of a giant cathedral all her life. Four bluish domes congregated around a much larger, ornate dome. A brick church underneath, with elaborate designs. Stained glass of stately saints with odd eyes. She had dreamed of this cathedral all her life. But she stepped through the wooden doors, and all she could feel was the corruption of the place. There were true believers, but mostly believers of money and possessions and superiority. The beautiful, giant cathedral was a lie.So she went to a small church, a simple wooden one, clean but somewhat homely. There was peace built into the framework. There was no false grandness, only the grandness of the tiny alter. There were true believers. “Home,” she thought, “Home.”
When I went to Paris I walked into the Cathedral of Notre Dam and the feeling was so overpowering that it made me cry.
Cathedral. The other day in english class they made me read a short story called “Cathedral”. I never actually read it. I am kind of lazy. But yesterday i saw a cathedral in NY. I did not know there were cathedrals there.
One of 50
In the cathedral there are many people. The broken and the breaking and the in shop. No one is fixed but some might be further along in repairment than others. The tall altars beckon to the wounded and pull them up to healing. Others stay in the pews and pray as if their lives depend on it. WhIch it does in a way because everyone needs something to believe in.
Towering spires, spiraling extraverted, upward, heavanward, word after sound, gigantic record needle, giants toothpick, tickling the roots of heavan, tentative compass needle to the cloudy thrones , single fire pole cherub pole dancer spinning into infinity.
The cathedral cast a shadow along tevery wall of the city. Its spires, almost lethal looking cast and intimidating shadow that pierced the hearts of those gargoyles that stood at its peak. It had been abandoned for over three centuries, since the turn of the Fourth War. In a panic, people of the city flooded its walls in attempt to seek sanctuary, but it could not hold them all and fights broke out. Many died, their blood staining the walls.
the place where beliefs have a voice – too bad the people ruling that premise don’t allow all beliefs in. They say they do, but i’ve been there, and they didn’t listen to me.
Beautiful photograph.
The building was full of light. Bits and splashes of colors came down from the windows, illuminating the entire, ancient room with pieces of colors and lending cheer and beauty to the otherwise plain and rather severe room. Generation after generation had attended here, as would many generations more.
Towering spires of intricate design lean above me. I can hear the bells ringing all to clearly in my mind. The last time I had been here was ages ago. That was the day mom died.
They are usually the most profound and visually astonishing pieces of architecture one has the fortune to encounter. Love ’em. That is all.
Walk near the cathedral, goose bumps.The feeling is so particular!
The cathedral was damp and dark, leaving one to wonder where all the people had been before entering. Understanding the history of such a place made one queasy, unsettled in the stomach. I had read the stories of the murders, the torture, all that glorified pain and suffering. I never understood it in the flesh, though, and now, being here, I could see how permanent a life could be.
Estoy de frente a la catedral de México. El aire anuncia una tormenta por venir, y yo solo quiero llegar sana y salva a casa, hundirme en el inframundo del metro, ponerme lejos del alcance de los ladrones y los violadores, dejar un rayo de sol que me guíe hasta mi destino, mi refugio, pero la catedral me amenaza con dolor.