Vintage travel

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The true north project

I walked through a narrow pathway of nic nacs and boxes of items never used. I was part of a few hundred people who showed up for a tag sale. The house was packed to the ceiling in merchandise with price tags and still in their original boxes. The house was part of a hoarder's Estate. This woman's life was consumed with shoppping.
      I felt sad as I fought my way thru fellow  junkers looking for a good deal. Nothing in this house had a soul or a story. The place felt abandoned and cold.
Just as I was convinced that I would find nothing that spoke to me I saw a little compass. It was nothing special but somehow I needed to take it with me. I felt compelled to make it come to life with purpose. 
    This little compass has become part of my true north project. This project is about finding passionate living and leaving your mark or legacy. More on that later.  I encrusted the compass with old chippy paint, birch bark and the words true north. There is a map inside and secret message. This compass joins my antique urn that holds special thoughts and wishes.  A jar of good spells just waiting to become reality.

 What does true north mean to you?

The circus came to town

This dreamy view makes me want to run away with the circus , not because I'm running from anything just because travel is nectar for my soul.

The art of getting lost

I remember as a kid  my parents packing up the station wagon for a roadtrip. The list went something like this;
*Luggage
*Pillows
*Cooler
*Umbrella
*Snacks
**Map
Ahh yes, the most important element,  the map. No map, no roadtrip. Not to mention the compass firmly attached to the dashboard.  A sense of direction and the ability to read a map was a necessary skill in those days.
Today all that is necessary for a good road trip is a full tank and a smart phone. The skill of navigating has been replaceded by technology and a voice named Siri.
My mom and I recently embarked on a journey across four states to conquer the the art of thirty shopping the World's longest garage sale. About two states in we began to have a little trouble, more like disagreement with our tech savvy friend and we realized that we had neglected to pack a map.
After a few moments of frustration I noticed the beautiful country side. The skies were heavy with a smokey mist falling down the Tennesee mountains and the tiny cabins were hidden with only the front porch visible through the dense Kusum vines. One such cabin looked over a yard full of tiny teepees with colorful roosters tethered alongside.  I later found out this was a farm that raised chickens for cock-fighting. Ugh!

 This detour made me realize that technology had taken away my serendipity and discovery. If Siri was so efficient at navigation why did she lead us down this back road to a two-track lane soon  becoming a private drive?

  I'd like to think she was showing us the beautiful landscape that had been lost while traveling the main road with my eyes fixed on a little blue dot moving along a generic black line. Every map in every state and every country looks the same on this gadget.
I love the art of old maps and the stories they tell.  That is why my  plans for a future road trip will be without technology. This trip will be closer to the trips of my childhood.  No station wagon or dashboard compass but you can bet I'll pack a reliable map and surround myself with good company. Mom are you ready? The rest will be left to navigational skill, a little luck and an open mind. I will embrace whatever the open road may bring and enjoy the art of getting lost .   Roadtrip! 

Lost and found

The yard is damp and  the air feels crisp and cool against my bare legs. My heart beats heavy in my chest as I stroll passed piles of a life unfinished and a past untold. My mind is full and my hands twitch as I ask myself; where did the journey begin for these discarded items. Who would dare part with such intriguing relics? Surely this stretch of patchy grass is not the final chapter.

        Each and every shade of patina holds  a secret and hints of a life unimaginable to me. It's hard to contain my excitement at the thought of re homing and the idea of writing a new chapter for the discarded treasures in the sunset junkyard.