I really want to post about Blissdom and I will. I really will. (promise!) I will post a ton of pictures and spill my everlovin’ guts about the whole experience. But it was so big. So very big. Nothing else seemed to exist for those days outside of the Opryland Hotel. But for some reason I’m just not quite at the point where I can express it all. I promise, I will post about it soon though.
Here is something small. Mission San Jose.
I took my kids on a little bitty field trip to an old California mission. It’s certainly not one of the most famous but it’s the closest. My boys needed a field trip. I needed a field trip. We’d all been sick and for a half a day all of us seemed well (some of us promptly became sick again not long after our outing).
I love living in California. There are so many things to dislike about California on so many levels but I am a 3rd/4th generation Californian on both sides and so California is my place, warts and all. And Lord knows if plastic surgery could take care of some of the ugly, California would have been all better a long time ago.
No flash photography is allowed indoors but fortunately I have a little camera that is a ninja when it comes to low light.
I am not Catholic but I appreciate color and light and beauty. This chapel is beautiful.
The colors of this place.
I could not get over it.
My son looked at this and said, “Do you think he really looked like this?”
And I said, “Probably much worse.” He was sort of shocked.
“But,” I said to him, “He did not stay there.”
I think it’s a litte too easy for us to have too ethereal a view of the crucifixion, particularly if we ever spent too much time with a “googly-eyed Jesus storybook” (as my kids call them).
A crucifix is visceral and while I don’t look to one as a Catholic might, I think seeing one now and then reminds me of the ugly reality of the cross. And yet… His word is enough. More time spent there would remind me as surely as any imagery.
The mission museum was small and poorly lit and simple. I really liked it. I’m weird that way, I guess.
I couldn’t get enough of the miniatures of the chapel.
I switch off and on between “artsy” and “documentary” as I go. Bear with me.
Reserved pews… pew rent. And political ads!
There was a good bit of Irish influence.
And more than a few Irish folks buried in the graveyard there. Interesting to see how the mission evolved with the cultural shift.
We like showing how big things are in comparison to small boys.
And how small things (like doorways) are in comparison to slightly larger boys.
The boys had a surprisingly good time. (They are cynics by nature.)
It wasn’t Disneyland. It was small and unassuming.
But it was informative and nearby and we enjoyed being together and doing something different for a change. (Is that doubly redundant?)
And I got to take pictures. Win win win.