Manifest
Worldview
Religious beliefs form the very
purpose of our lives. People make
life-changing decisions based on the morals (or lack of) they value. Everyone bases their worldview based on their
perception of the universe and its governance.
One might argue that they are atheistic, and don’t believe in
anything. However, just the thought that
there is no governing body is a system of belief itself, hence a religion. Throughout history, civilizations have made
the aspects of their religion transparent to others by creating sacred places
of worship, some of which continue to exist in modern times. Historians are still able to define a culture
based on their living architecture. People
still create spaces that convey their beliefs in all sorts of ways. If I were to create a building or space that
reflected my own worldview, viewers would have an experience that is now being
visually described through my thoughts.
I slowly park my car, careful to place it perfectly
parallel to the defining lines. I step
out onto the pavement, breathing in the scent of the cherry tree blossoms, now in
full bloom in the spring. The sidewalk
leading toward the building is perfectly poured white concrete, flanked by
green trees, giving my subconscious a sense of purity and life. I reach the end of the parking lot, where the
sidewalks from other parts of the parking lot have converged into one large
walkway. All the attendees come
from different backgrounds and different places, but we meet and converge on
the one pathway leading toward the place of sanctuary. The large walk funnels narrower, as generally
many trail off to enjoy the large lawn of grass, never entering the building.
The facade of the building is nothing very impressive,
yet it stands out from the rest. The
white marble cladding is beautiful but simple.
It is like a large triangle, capturing your eye as it rises from the
ground and narrows almost to a point at the top. I take in the cleanliness and solidarity of
the stone, pointing my eyes up to the freedom and magnitude of the sky. The large, plain wooden doors are strong, not
to purposely keep anyone out, but to emphasize that once you are in the
building, you are secure and safe.
Once inside, the doors close behind me and I catch my
breath, as I do every time I am exposed to the interior. Light streams in from
windows of all sizes, some for general illumination and some small ones
oriented with the sun to focus on specific architectural features and items in
the building. Words of truth and
encouragement are carved into the walls, reminding occupants the purpose of
this building. Other than that, there
are few visual distractions on the walls.
The space is large and open, and the building seems alive and breathing
as the open windows give air the ability to move freely. Chairs are laid out on a grid, orderly and
all facing toward the front. The
acoustics of the room are perfect, allowing the speaker to speak gently to
reach even the most distant listener.
Shouting and artificial amplification is unnecessary, even harmful to
sensitive ears. The room angles down toward the speaker, allowing them direct
visual contact to the listener, facilitating separate personal experiences and
relationships throughout the room.
The real beauty of the space lies in the ceiling. Skylights allow views into the changing
weather outside. There is one line of
them that runs perfectly down the middle of the church from the entrance to the
front, illuminating the main aisle.
Another line of skylights runs perpendicular, 2/3 down the line of the
first line. The rest of the ceiling
follows the main attitude of the building, plain and simple.
After I sit in the space for awhile, absorbing the quiet
peace of the light playing with the floor and furniture, I leave the building
feeling inspired, renewed and ready to face the traffic back to my home. It is Thursday, only 3 more days before I
return to the building, this time with all of my friends and family. A smile plays about my lips as I turn the key
in the ignition, contentment filling my entire body.
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| Palouse Peace |
