Dream a little dream....

{ Yes, this may look suspiciously like a rarely sighted Nyssa, Ink. blog post. }

Ok, whew..... I am here, I do exist, even when not blogging. And now that I am over the shock of actually sitting here - in the midst of writing an actual blog post, let's get on with the good stuff because frankly, I'm obsessed with my new creation....

photo © Nyssa, Ink. Art & Vintage

Antique ribbons, tattings, lace interspersed with contemporary materials - all gifted or thrifted - make up this beautiful dream catcher. I see a million possibilities behind my eyes. 

This dream catcher I made for a friend in Chicago, who a few years ago had gifted me, via snail mail, a box full of antique lace and vintage ribbons of the finest quality, a true treasure trove. I know with all certainty that she will love it. For me, the sentiment that some of her gift to me is being returned to her, in this new incarnation, holds special significance.

I have seen images of dream catchers on Pinterest and Facebook - made of vintage and recycled materials - but I'm not big on tutorials. For some reason, I tend to prefer to figure things out for myself --  the hard way. And so, I did. I love how it turned out and will only make slight adjustments to how I create dream catchers to come. 

Moderation may be a virtue.... but not necessarily one of mine.

photo © Nyssa, Ink. Art & Vintage 

I see more dreams being caught.    

XO, Nyssa 

{ Dream Catcher commissions are welcome. Please contact me at nyssaink@gmail.com } 

the art of correspondence.

The dream of Nyssa, Ink. 

began over 25 years ago in Eugene, Oregon 

when I first wrote the words "Nyssa, Ink." down on paper. 

I've always been addicted to paper goods... 

I still today have the postcards and cards 

that I collected and were sent to me since my childhood. 

friends from camp. 

cute boys I met on vacation. 

the friend who moved away. 

when I moved away. 

postcards of travels. 

love notes. 

notes passed in class. 

This was a time when correspondence was still always by hand, 

whether in writing or by typewriter. 

No emails. 

No texts. 

It was a time when messages were communicated directly, 

by voice or by written word.  

A time when a sentiment was something real you could hold onto. 

Something to keep and remember. 

Something to treasure. 

            

click here to see the new Nyssa, Ink. collection of cards 

XO, Nyssa 

The art of life.

Hello. 

Welcome to my 

little 

tiny 

baby 

step 

back into blogging.... 

or you could consider it a

 fresh start redoux. 

Been here before. 

May find myself here again. 

It's a dance; 

this art of life, this life of art. 

No apologies.

xo, Nyssa 

Some people see old junk from the garage. 

People like me see the beauty, the sweat of the laborer's hand, 

a sporadic curse mumbled under the breath, 

the rough, strong hand that caused the 
perfectly thumb-sized rust spot on the handle,  

the ways of the past, remembering a time - long gone by - 

when things took a little more effort and stood the test of time quite a bit better. 

People like me see the soul of the salt of the earth.  

XO, Nyssa 

( available for purchase - click this link to buy now }: STRAIT-LINE

BEAUTY: in the worn, the faded, the chipped, the rusty... 

{along the Astoria, Oregon Riverwalk} 

SPARTAN: how my blog looks today. 

Sometimes in life, we simply owe ourselves the gift of a clean slate. 

Welcome. 

Thank you for being here.