I've moved...

I've moved beyond the fitful starts and into launching my dream.
It all picks up at Nyssa, Ink.  
Please visit when you can!

consistently inconsistent

Original art by Richard H. Dawson. All rights reserved. 

Know thyself, right? That's why this blog is called Fitful Starts. I do know myself. I've done some work in that department and I consider it a lifelong labor of love.

Year in and year out, one thread running through my life is that I have always been consistently inconsistent. Not in every way (uh, thank goodness). Character and values? I am solid as a rock, rarely wavering. In other areas of my life, well, let's just say, look for me where the wind blows. When it comes to my daily habits and personal creative passions, I often just follow my mood or inspiration, or equally as often, what ends up being my lack of inspiration. I've always just laughed it off as a Gemini thing: part of me wants to do one thing, another part of me wants to do something different... but then (and here's the rub) eventually I find I've done neither. But forget resolutions... they are more likely to be disappointments made in advance (especially for a Gemini).

I truly savor the pensive nature of this time of year. It's a season in itself, this changing of the calendar, and it's one of my very favorite seasons. It strikes me as a time of steeping or brewing. It's not lost on me that the purpose of steeping or brewing is to make stronger, richer, more flavorful.

As I reflect on the past, present and future, what I most want to focus on this year is being more consistently consistent -- in pursuit of what makes me feel happy and alive: creating, blogging, thrifting and treasure hunting, reading and writing, being outdoors and time spent with family and friends. In short, I am striving towards more time spent connecting-- with myself, nature and others.

Now that doesn't sound like a horrible assignment for the new year, does it?

little me

"Very early, I knew that the only object in life was to grow." 

quote by Margaret Fuller 

school photo circa 1977 or 1978? 

This is one of my favorite pictures of myself. I mean, come on, right? Look at the homemade 70's blouse and romper. It appears that I am now a classic. Vintage. I was there. I wore it. I am that old. Incredibly, I actually lived in The Goonies house when that picture was taken. Pre-Goonies, of course. Before Mount St. Helens blew. When people still had 8-tracks in their rigs.

That little girl loved Tanya Tucker, her cat Buttercup, Barbies, Tiger Beat, S&H Green Stamps, dolphins, salamanders. found treasures and old things. and oh, what was his name?  The teen heart throb of the moment. I had a poster on my wall. Darn. Well, that happens. It'll come to me....

.... and I also remember that same little girl did a mean Mae West imitation. And she wanted to play the guitar, maybe even be a rock star. But definitely she wanted to be a designer.

Am I really so different today? Changing little details, I am her. And she is me. So, my "older tribe" status is still hard for me to entirely grasp because what "they" say is often true: mostly, you just don't feel any older on the inside than you did 10, even 20 years ago. Lately I've been thinking back over my life and asking myself (especially after conversations with much younger women) what would I tell my 15 year old self? Or my 7 year old self?

In my collection of quotes I found this and above all, 

this is what I would want this little girl to know: 

"Once you accept the fact that you are not perfect, 

then you develop some confidence." 

quoting Rosalyn Carter 

And I would also have to tell her that she's beautiful. 

And someday she'll think that outfit is really cool. 

It may take upwards of 30 years. But it will happen. 

And I would tell her that life isn't perfect either. 

But it is full of perfect moments. 

What would you tell "little you"? 

buntings, bibs and bears

And on a lighter, sweeter note today... 

Some of my summer days were spent sewing. Yes, I made friends with the machine again. I somehow found myself in a two week fit of producing buntings and bibs. Baby showers can inspire such frivolity.

reversible baby boy bibs

I found the (easy breezy!) pattern for the bibs here at Prudent Baby. 

And a nice little summer shot of the buntings, bibs and this charming bear displayed on my wood stove. The bear, or model's name, if you will, is Ashley. Please note that she has a friend, the kitty. A treasured gift, I've had Ashley & friend for years, like almost 20 (omg). Ashley & friend were made by artist Mary Holstad who, I found out, compliments of Google, still produces today. What I remember loving about this series of bears is that I was told that each bear has it's own kitty because the artist moved a lot as a child and was never able to have her own kitty... as an only child, who also moved a lot, that touched me.

bibs, buntings and bears

The buntings (and some outdoor lights) also added a festive touch at our camp site. Next time I'll bring at least triple. I spent a lot of time just coloring with crayons. Sigh...

Lots of great memories were made here, a homey outdoor getaway established in 1936 by a woman serving food to fishermen and hunters and apparently developed by FDR as part of the New Deal. He even stayed there himself, as legend goes. Cabin #1. I asked at the general store about pictures from the 30's, 40's and 50's... but no such luck. One waitress has been there 29 years and "knows a lot" but we were visiting in late September and the restaurant had closed for the season. I imagine the photos I would be looking for are only to be found in the albums of families who have enjoyed the retreat for the last 3 generations.

Oh, and did I mention we had no cell service in the area at all?
How dreamy.

And wow, the pelicans and cranes,
owls screeching at night,
... and farther in the background, the coyotes.

It's an amazing place. I recommend clicking that link above if your curiosity hasn't gotten to you yet.

Our dogs learned to swim.
And despite great efforts, they didn't catch a single chipmunk.

Fish were caught, and all let go, except for the one, who was filleted, cooked in foil over the camp fire with butter and onions and devoured.

A Yahtzee Champ prevailed. A trophy was given.

Thoughtful talks about life, love, loss and laughter around the campfire were savored.

The lake was fished, swimmed in, floated on and hiked around.

3 camp photos courtesy the hubster. 

Master smores skills were developed- yes, I said Master level smores skills, we challenge anyone to an official smore-off!

A great time was had by all and the happy memories will live on....

art and life, then and now

"Everyone has talent. What is rare is the courage to follow the talent to the dark place where it leads." 

quote by Erica Jong 

Original art by Richard H. Dawson. All rights reserved. 

What do you think of when you see this image? 

At this stage of my life (thankfully) I no longer believe that talent is necessitated by suffering... it is indeed possible to be wildly creative and, yes, happy. I once believed otherwise.... but I now know that suffering is the human condition; in no way reserved for just artists and misfits.

For me, there is a release in this, a freedom-- no need to fear the dark places our talent may lead us. We are headed there anyway... willingly or otherwise, such is life.

So, I will laugh. I will create. I will mourn. And I will be happy.

But, like authentic blues singers, the ones who have seen the darkest shades of blue can sing it like no other. The piece above, done by my father, reminds me of the dark places his talent led him, symbolizing for me, a chaos of the mind. Dark? Yes. And beautiful, still.

"Each day comes bearing it's gifts. Untie the ribbon."
 quoting Ruth Ann Schabacker

on hitting the road...

"the road was new to me, as roads always are, going back"      

 ... quoting Sarah Orne Jewett 

Original art by Richard H. Dawson. All rights reserved. 

on collecting...

I have several "collections"...

Small pitchers or creamers (I would share a photo but they currently reside in a cupboard- in our last, roomier home they had their own proper - albeit dusty- shelf).

Vintage ceramic and glassware, resting comfortably in a beautiful french hutch (and would make another lovely blog picture, I am sure).

Art, piles and stacks of art (to fill way more than my own home).

Vintage linens (in a heap, waiting to be laundered).

Barbies. Yes, lots of Barbies (sadly, stacked neatly in a closet). It's the little girl in me and Barbies always make me smile.

But one of my very favorite collections (all fitting nicely in one little shoebox) is the pile of hundreds of quotes that have moved or inspired (or even just made me laugh) that I've collected over the last 25 years... this collection is one that actually makes a real, measurable difference in my life. I call on those quotes-- to just get me through life on some days, and, on other days, to help me make the most of life. These quotes, becoming my own personalized book of inspiration, remind me of the beautiful and amazing fact that I have the ability to control my mind and focus my thoughts in the direction of my own choosing.

Original art by Richard H. Dawson. All rights reserved.

.... quoting Geothe--- "Nothing is worth more than this day". 

and according to Ralph Waldo Emerson--- 

"Nothing is at last sacred but the integrity of your own mind". 

Simple as that. 

his legacy, my honor...

When someone you love so enormously leaves you suddenly and unexpectedly, it is a complete shock to the system. No time for those last goodbyes, to say the things you would have wanted to say, to ask the questions you wanted to ask.... and for me, the result was that everything he left behind became incredibly precious to me.

But beauty is in the eye of the beholder- as they say, and as such, I've never felt as though I was able to see his art with an objective eye. To me it is amazing, powerful and beautiful. After all, it is my father's legacy. And now, today, experiencing others experiencing his art is so powerful and truly just blows me away...

Original art by Richard H. Dawson. All rights reserved. 

I imagine this little painting is based upon his travels in France, Italy and Switzerland... it reminds me of a painting called "vision of Toledo" that he sent me for my 30th birthday, just a couple of years before he died. I am grateful and honored to be the caretaker of his legacy... and I take great refuge and solace in the images he left behind.

A thank you card to Blogger

Before my father unexpectedly passed away, almost nine years ago, he mentioned to someone that he imagined his art would end up in a dumpster after he was gone. His life's work. His life's passion. As his only child, I could never let that happen. With the help of his dear friends in North Carolina, we were able to ship the lion's share of his work out to me in Oregon. It was many, many boxes and took months to complete. 

I have often wondered how I will share his work and honor his memory.... but wonder no more. 

Thank you, Blogger. 

Original art by Richard H. Dawson. All rights reserved. 

Self-taught and shy of his talents, his art was presented mostly as gifts to friends and family. Over time, I will continue to post his works and honor his memory here with that hope that someone may be moved by what he left behind....