On the outside, the church at the end of the square on our little walkabout was not much different than any of another half-dozen I visited while in Rome.  Inside, like most, it had a main, central aisle leading to the altar and two flanking aisles on the sides of the church.  And also, like most, it was stunningly beautiful and opulent.  This is a view looking towards the altar.

Looking up at the ceiling ... gilded with inlaid paintings of some sort.

An offset view of the altar:

Offerings to the Virgin Mary and Child:

Christ depicted on the Cross in one of the naves on the right side of the church.  I was attracted by the light streaming in through the Cupola.

Strangely, this next image is my favorite of this group.  It is the aisle running down the right side of the church.  I like the quality, color, and  tone of the light. At the end of this aisle is a place to kneel and pray and next it a small table ... 

On top of the table is this small wooden box with pieces of paper containing hand written notes.  I assume they are notes to God (or perhaps to one of his/her surrogates asking for intercession).  I saw a similar custom (written notes hanging in the wind) in Buddhist and Shinto Temples in Japan.  

All Christians believe that God is omni-present and omniscient... don't they?  Yet, as evidenced by this box, we still receive comfort by writing down and placing in it these scraps of paper describing our most personal, heart-felt feelings and desires.  Is it the act of writing or the presence of the physical piece of paper when finished that gives us solace? And, what will we do 100 years from now when paper will be used only as a rarity to mark ceremonies?  Will we populate a small box with memory sticks?

As impressive as the interior of the church is, the natural light shinning through this simple stained-glass window remains to me the most impressive of all!

Well, that's the end of the posts on our little outing.  The sights we saw are quite ordinary ... they are everywhere ... if you are in Rome!

Bye for now,

Adam