Small Interiors ☘︎
Tinkerbell, Secret of Nimh, Arriettey

seen from France

seen from China
seen from China
seen from Türkiye
seen from China
seen from China
seen from United States

seen from China

seen from Singapore
seen from Malaysia
seen from China
seen from Canada

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Netherlands
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seen from India

seen from Netherlands

seen from Australia
Small Interiors ☘︎
Tinkerbell, Secret of Nimh, Arriettey
𝔭𝔦𝔢𝔠𝔢𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔲𝔰
on the ground (march/april/may 2026)
(+) went to a museum and saw some art last week
(-) lost the ring I wore almost every day for the past couple months
when magpies speak of burdens or grief, it’s an academic practice with pros and cons and diagrams who can gauge the depth of a wide world outside a nest when you’re busy picking up lost things or making hay out of split wood flight is uncontrolled when falling because you have to remember your wings
Two patches left, then it's done!!
Watching: Black Panther (2018)
Tony
Today is the Memorial of St. Anthony of Padua. My first introduction to St. Anthony was “the prayer.”
A friend of mine had lost her keys. The moment she realized it, she said “Tony, Tony, look around. Something’s lost and must be found!”
I was a newly-minted Catholic at the time. I’d never heard it before.
I laughed and asked her what that was. She explained that it was the prayer to St. Anthony. To find lost things.
I love kitschy things. Especially Catholic kitsch. Which is what her goofy prayer sounded like to me.
Like it was in the same league as my Immaculate Heart of Mary nightlight.
Then she kept repeating it. The look on her face was calm and determined.
The words may have been goofy, but she was really asking for divine intervention.
And she kept asking. With that same calm determination. Until after what seemed like forever (really, it was less than a minute), she knew where they were.
As she grabbed the keys, she said “thanks, Tony.” Just like he was right there with us.
I couldn’t get over it. It was goofy prayer.
But she meant it. She sincerely wanted God’s help. And she trusted God to help.
It was kitschy. But somehow, it was an instrument of God’s grace.
And a witness to a newly-minted Catholic.
Because of her reliance on God. Because she meant it. Because she believed.
All I could think of was St. James’ testimony to God’s generosity (and rebuke to people like me who think they have to do it all themselves) - “You do not have, because you do not ask.”
Today’s Readings
Linoryt Ztracené věci Linocut Lost things