my interest in old churches

Last week ony way to jack spratt on Pittwater I was immediately compelled to visit an old church that I spied across the wat. . Unfortunately traffic, lack of parking and ithe sheers danger of even stopping, held me back. I wondered whether i may visit on the return leg. 

I never did, I wasnt really sure where it was and it was getting dark. Now I'm really annoyed at myself, but I'm also curious as to my motives for visiting am unknown church in such a fashion 

 On a previous trip to the area I did visit the Baha'i Temple. Its hard to miss its massive dome peaking above the tree tops, beckoning thr curious from miles around. The well tended lawns showcased the pleasant easy form of the temple. Its dome giving way to a basically round space for the congregation, gave the feeling of  the parishioners as open hearted, non-violent folk. I playfully joggled around the loop eyeing its symmetrical forms when a caretaker exited and advised me the temple was now closed. I was a little horrified at the prospect of being expected to enter. The weight of religion and expectation to appear holy were too onerous to bear. No, I was happy to anonymously soak in the atmosphere without impacting it on any way. Like watching a reflections on a pond, being careful to not cause a ripple to spoil the image. 

My thoughts were about the structure; its grandeur reflecting the intentions of her designers, and of the feelings this stirred within me. 

My first such recollections of a church stirring wonderous feelings in me was during a visit to St .Mary's Star of the Sea in  Newcastle. Apart from my friend Brenden, a year six classmate and refugee from Belfast who lived in the presbytery, I was alone. The church was unpopulated, there was no gaze by clergy and no expectations upon me to perform as a dutiful son or alter boy. I was just there on my own terms, to look and bece awakened to the unique  ambiance of the building itself.. I saw warm  coloured sandstone blocks, sloping upwards forming great bolsters along the side of the structure. Near to the ground mould and moss populated the surface, the air here was dank, cooler and somewhat sinister. Metal grills covered small windows to the dungeon below ground. I also had a vague idea of a confusion of coloured stained glass windows towering overhead. It was unmistakably a unique experience of architecture stirring up unknown feelings and a recognitionof those people that were here before me. 

Later, Brenden and I navigated the tree covered hill behind the church. Silently we stalked sparrows to shoot at with Breden's air rifle. The intense quiet and the disuse and decay at the rear of the church was special, a place where few people moved in the shadows of the spires. 

I hope in future to rekindle these feelings by visiting and photographing other old churches, about Newcastle, the region and even overseas.   

At this point I am developing a framework to guide me on this quest, my motives if you like:-

* small, old and potentially derelict or neglected churches will be preferred.

* no cathedrals or famous churches.

* a church, chapel or temple of any denomination

* visited when at rest, when no-one is about.

* each will be admired whole or in part, mostly from the outside.  

* the mood or sensation of each structure will be noted and any historic interest will be acknowledged. 

I will document my findings on my blog.  

Thanks.