Nightshade Songbirds

12/18/2021

Sale time!

Buy At Auction. 1975 TOPPS NFL FOOTBALL CARDS, FOUR SEASONS BY ANDREW WYETH, DEPRESSION ERA O/C PAINTING BY CARL SAXILD, SALVADOR DALI INFERNO: BERTRAM DEL BORNIO, THOMAS KINKADE "HOMETOWN CHAPEL", 1860 CURRIER & IVES "HIAWATHA'S WOOING" LITHOGRAPH, NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC + MISC. MAGAZINES, WATERCOLOR....

07/23/2021

01/13/2021

What’s on your mind?
•
•
•
#1910

12/29/2020

B&W or Color? Why not both!?

This Vintage nightgown is a dream!
•
•
•

05/25/2020

02/14/2020

Collette Montgomery, February 14, 1912.
I waited for him... He always said he would return. We wrote letters, not just of love but of our future and found memories we shared. He told me we would wed the very moment he returned. And so everyday I awoke and gently slipped on my dress and I went to the window and I waited. The days grew long and cold. The plants in the garden withered and died. The house creaked, the wallpaper peeled, the roof leaked. But I waited, in my dress, for him to return. My dress faded and the lace grew brittle. I feared I would destroy it with the constant dressing and un******ng so forever I stayed in my dress, morning, noon and night. My hair too grew grey and my skin dull and wrinkled. I stayed waiting, for him to return... One day he will come for me. And I’ll be here, in my dress, waiting...
•
•
•
.

01/29/2020

Henrietta Babineaux, 7th of May, 1860,
You can always tell who the outsiders are. The ones that come and go, spectators. Not a part of high society, not from proud French bloodlines, such as we. They walk around in their drab, poorly mended, out of date fashions, with rigid hair and lackluster jewelry aborning their necks.
Have they no pride in their appearance? Have they not kept up with the latest styles? I fear it is not ignorance but rather lack of care on such subjects!
To imagine such a great injustice to ones self makes me shudder!
The looks of today will carry us to the future looks of tomorrow! How glorious and splendid to dream of what is to come!
•
•
•

12/12/2019

Bring a little sunshine wherever you go!
🌻
🌻
🌻

11/22/2019

Mary Lou Giantti, May 17, 1943. “Momma always told me a pretty face would land me a husband. ‘Don’t forget your compact’ she shouted as I walked out the door to meet a gentleman for dinner. His name was Joe, my crush from grad school, as luck would have it. I sat down and waited for him. Minutes went by and then an hour. A waitress came by to ask me if I’d like to order soon. I replied with tears in my eyes that I just needed to powder my face quick. I stood up and headed to the ladies room. I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror. My tears had made horrid lines in my perfectly powdered face. I quickly pulled out my compact and fixed myself right up. I sucked up my tears and headed out the door. As I walked to my table I put my compact in my purse, only to miss and have it fall on the ground. Embarrassed I scrambled to the floor to retrieve it. Just steps away I saw it lying, I reached out at the same time another hand reached out too. The other hand got there first, I looked up to see the most handsome man before me. ‘Is this yours?’ He asked with a smile on his face. I smile and nod as he helps me to my feet. ‘Well you can have it back it you grace me with your presence over dinner.’ I agreed and we sat down across the room from the lonely table I had waited at alone the last hour. ‘My name is Francis, and I have to say, I have never seen a more beautiful face.’ I blushed but he might have never known. Momma was right after all. For we are to be married come next fall”
•
•
•

@ Brooklyn, New York

09/26/2019

Abigail Inghram, November 18, 1863 - I am dressed in all black. The day is dark. The air is heavy. Woe-filled and hopeless I walk through my quiet and lonely corridors. This house was once filled with such love and laughter and now it is only me. Me, left alone with my sorrow and my broken heart. My black capelet tied about my neck, pretty and ornate, but why? It’s precious button down the nape of my neck, the delicate lace rippling and cascading about my chest, but black, black like when we close our eyes forever. Am I in mourning for my husband? For my dear sweet children? For my boys? My brothers, cousins, uncles, friends who I have lost over the last two years? When we have all lost so many it’s hard to say who we dress in black for anymore. It feels no one is even left to see it. Today there is a speech given by the President, I do hope it is a call to stop this dreadful war. Until then, I’ll sit, alone, dreaming and longing to hear what is no more.
⌛️
⌛️
⌛️