SAINTS WHO LOVED ANIMALS, by Enid Chadwick (1962)
The classic and charming Anglo-Catholic illustrator of My Book of the Church Year fame wrote and illustrated many other books for children including this one! 🧵
There was a baby chimp born at The Sedgwick County Zoo, the baby had to be put on oxygen for a few days. This is a clip of it being reintroduced to its mother for the first time.
@SavannahNest It's truly been a privilege to watch this. Though there is a lump in my throat today, and the melancholy feeling I would get as a girl at the end of summer camp. Hellos and Goodbyes always, it seems. This ending is good. But alas: "Parting is such sweet sorrow."���️
what's that?
can you hear it?
sounds like,
rain
meteors
flowers unfolding
sounds like eyes opening
trees bending
stars kissing
the sky good morning,
sounds like a day
a day in Spring,
a day Unfolding
–L
There is no beginning or end, there is only transformation. What are we transforming into? What of our relationships, our words, actions? What are they transforming into, what are we becoming?
–L
NOOOOO!!! What will it take for us to see suffering for what it is!!! Do we ultimately just not care? Will we normalize this, too, as we have many other acts of industrialized cruelty? @ReutersScience https://t.co/igtTZraKIQ
we suffer many barriers without connection
and connection without meaning...
bricks stacked without mortar or skill-
the wind blows-
and we are nothing,
yet we are brutally so.
–L
on the one hand-
accept everything everything everything...
on the other-
accept nothing nothing nothing...
I am squashed between these extremes, for they
are watching, watching, watching...
and they must know now how I feel,
there is no time for dialogue.
–L
“The first feminist gesture is to say: “OK, they're looking at me. But I'm looking at them.” The act of deciding to look, of deciding that the world is not defined by how people see me, but how I see them.”
–Agnes Varda
“The modern philosopher had told me again and again that I was in the right place, and I had still felt depressed even in acquiescence. But when I heard that I was in the wrong place, my soul sang for joy, like a bird in spring.”
–G.K. Chesterton