(click image to enlarge, irony notwithstanding)
Someone curious: What is this photograph of?
Tinyphile: Tiny things.
Someone curious: What tiny things?
Tinyphile: A little girl and a little boy silver pendant; the smallest Russian doll- she doesn’t get out enough; a miniature box of matches; a hand-made paper book; a worry doll; a baby jelly baby (deformed); two china dollies; and a set of outfits I made for the elves from The Elves and the Shoemaker.
Someone curious: I’ll pretend I didn’t hear the last one. It makes you sound unhinged.
What’s the deal with small things?
Tinyphile: I love them.
Someone curious: Do you love them because you think they are vulnerable?
Someone curious: Do they inspire your instinct to protect?
Tinyphile: To what?
Someone curious: Do you think they are magical? Can’t big things be magical? Do you live the rest of your life by cliches?
Someone curious: Or do you love them because they give you a sense of ownership? Is your love of tiny treasures about making you feel bigger as a person? Do most of your loving instincts come from a dark place?
Someone curious: Do you love them because they belong to the realm of fantasy? Does that mean you find reality lacking? Can’t you handle reality? Does it make you feel inadequate? Is there a line you cross from magic realism to real magicalism? Is that where Elizabeth Taylor has gone? Is that where you want to go too?
Tinyphile: Oh, you’re hurting my head.
I find you overly curious and I’m not enjoying this conversation.
Someone curious: I love it, I’ve made you feel small, haven’t I?
Tinyphile: Yes. Yes, you have.