After all the festivities of the Folk Art Market were over, Marissa and I were left with a quite a void. We hadn’t quite got our head around what we were to do with the rest of our time in New Mexico, and despite the fact that our time at the market was paid in friendship, our first day off we couldn’t help ourselves but make that long journey up the devil-hill once again to catch our folk art comrades for a final hoo-ha.
In true us style, we left it much too late and missed them all together, rendering the trip up the hill pretty pointless.
We decided that the next day we had to be a bit more organised.
So, we woke up early, on what was to be our final day in the high desert, and set out for a day trip to Taos, a small town an hour out of Santa Fe. We had been given the word up by Sally, the amazingly organised and fantastic ambience coordinator at the market, that the best way into Taos is the scenic root. Another scenic root ha? Another hour-turned-four spent in constant awe, stopping every 10 minuets for pictures and risking our lives on the road though this awe-stricken loss of concentration?? yep….
Anyway, on this death mission we drove past a little town and for some reason decided to stop. What we discovered in the small town of Chimayó, was the best little church I ever did see. It was known as the Santo Nino Church. The church was hand built in the 1800s for children and is filled with the most amazing colourful artwork and design in a Mexican style. Just up the road stood its big sister, El Santuario de Chimayó, an equally impressive yet more mature church for the grown ups.
I don’t know if I trying to fill that empty void I talked about earlier, but after seeing these churches I nearly considered turning Cathlic. If thats what Christianity looks like then, maybe it ain’t that bad?? I even spent 20 miniuets in the gift shop deciding which Milagros I should buy for myself, friends and family members, mapping out what everybody needed ‘healing’ for, and what tiny charm would best suit these personal ‘stuggles.’ Upon my better judgement I decided that everybody was absolutely fine and that I was being ridiculous thinking sewing a tiny figurine of two people holding hands to my lappel might magically fix my relationships.
Photographs were not allowed to be taken inside, but I managed to defy the message of god and got a few snaps while I was in there before it was pointed out to me, that in fact, god doesn’t like being ‘shared’ on the internet.