Varenna chapel, Holy Week, 2014

I was randomly looking back through old photographs this morning when
I saw this one, taken in a little dark chapel in Varenna, northern
Italy, in April 2014. It was Good Friday, and parishioners were readying
for the Stations of the Cross, a solemn parade through the old town's
alleyways. In the chapel there was no electric light, and it was a dark
day outside, so it was a hand-held twelfth of a second for me.

I am a completely unreligious person, but religious belief often
brings out a respect and desire for art in people. And who can find
fault in a mother's grief over the political murder of her son? Art
is art.

But one of the mysteries of religion for me is how the gifts in that
box made their way to the Holy Land. And to whom.