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James Michael Starr, Author

We all have our personal myths. Mine, the Butterfly Myths, are tales I kept to myself. The unlikely hero was my dad, a humble blue-collar worker who never…
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Pennsylvania, 1876, Outline County Map, Beaver County Art, County Map, County, Beaver County, Map, Starr, Graphic, Beaver, Keep To Myself
Pennsylvania Outline County Map, Beaver County
Pennsylvania, 1876, Outline County Map, Beaver County
A chapter in The Butterfly Myths reveals the life of a Prometheus moth, and Bedřich Smetana's "The Moldau" seems perfect to accompany the weaving of its silken cocoon. Youtube, Play, Opera, Harp, Harpist, Harps Music, Diana, James
Xavier de Maistre plays Moldau
A chapter in The Butterfly Myths reveals the life of a Prometheus moth, and Bedřich Smetana's "The Moldau" seems perfect to accompany the weaving of its silken cocoon.
As a visual artist, I can't help but envision the novel The Butterfly Myths on the big screen, and to hear the musical soundtrack as well. Prokofiev's Dance of the Knights from Romeo and Juliet would accompany the scenes of fire and brimstone from inside Crucible steel mill. Musicals, Films, Dance, Wedding Music, Music Sales, Channel, Symphony, Concert
Prokofiev: Romeo and Juliet, No 13 Dance of the Knights (Valery Gergiev, LSO)
As a visual artist, I can't help but envision the novel The Butterfly Myths on the big screen, and to hear the musical soundtrack as well. Prokofiev's Dance of the Knights from Romeo and Juliet would accompany the scenes of fire and brimstone from inside Crucible steel mill.
Book Two of The Butterfly Myths will flash back to the story of Marie, based loosely on my mother's childhood during the waning days of the Depression. True to my mom's love for animals, Chapter One finds Marie wanting to save a canary from what she considers a fate worse than death: life inside a cage. Portrait, Finch, Michael, Art Masters, Chapter One, Poster, Rouge
The Cage - James Michael Starr
Book Two of The Butterfly Myths will flash back to the story of Marie, based loosely on my mother's childhood during the waning days of the Depression. True to my mom's love for animals, Chapter One finds Marie wanting to save a canary from what she considers a fate worse than death: life inside a cage.
A newly finished chapter in my novel recreates a day from my childhood that I actually can no longer remember–the day I saw some of my family members for the last time. Vintage, Vintage Postcards, South Dakota, Jack Rabbit, Cattle, Herding Cattle, Herding
Greetings From Texas - James Michael Starr
A newly finished chapter in my novel recreates a day from my childhood that I actually can no longer remember–the day I saw some of my family members for the last time.
Among the more amusing of my mother's recollections from childhood in a Depression-era mill town was one about the penny-ante crime of Italian lottery–the numbers game. Her description fascinated me, so it's now a chapter in Book Two of The Butterfly Myths. Newcastle, Lawrence, Jane Fonda, Olds, 1940s
Butter And Eggs - James Michael Starr
Among the more amusing of my mother's recollections from childhood in a Depression-era mill town was one about the penny-ante crime of Italian lottery–the numbers game. Her description fascinated me, so it's now a chapter in Book Two of The Butterfly Myths.
Eerily similar to the barely-standing house my mother grew up in is my own childhood home a few miles west, across the state line in Ohio. If I wanted to, I could read all kinds of metaphysical significance into the fact that both remain with vacant lots all around. But for now, just file this under Truth That’s Stranger Than Fiction. Still there as of January, 2015 at 731 Daisy Alley, East Liverpool, Ohio. Liverpool, Ohio, Outdoor, Vacant, Alley, House, Shed, East Liverpool
Eerily similar to the barely-standing house my mother grew up in is my own childhood home a few miles west, across the state line in Ohio. If I wanted to, I could read all kinds of metaphysical significance into the fact that both remain with vacant lots all around. But for now, just file this under Truth That’s Stranger Than Fiction. Still there as of January, 2015 at 731 Daisy Alley, East Liverpool, Ohio.
In 1969, at the age of 40, my mother finally married her third husband, Paul Lauria, the man I believe made her the happiest, if she ever really was. I think at that point she had abandoned any hope of ever singing again, or at least found in Paul the best, safest substitute for pursuing her dream. The problem came when Paul died, and she slipped into what a therapist told me was decades of depression–I believe because she  finally faced the price for running from herself. The Rite, Mother, Husband, Married, Hope, Author, Paul
In 1969, at the age of 40, my mother finally married her third husband, Paul Lauria, the man I believe made her the happiest, if she ever really was. I think at that point she had abandoned any hope of ever singing again, or at least found in Paul the best, safest substitute for pursuing her dream. The problem came when Paul died, and she slipped into what a therapist told me was decades of depression–I believe because she finally faced the price for running from herself.
It could be a still from an Our Gang film of the same era. My mother, age 11 at the time, may have known one of these kids. They were photographed in January of 1940 by Jack Delano for the Farm Security Administration/Office of War Information, as part of a Work Progress Administration (WPA) project now preserved in the Library of Congress. Vintage Photos, Vintage School, Vintage Collection, Old Photos, Photographer, Old Quotes, Stock Photography
It could be a still from an Our Gang film of the same era. My mother, age 11 at the time, may have known one of these kids. They were photographed in January of 1940 by Jack Delano for the Farm Security Administration/Office of War Information, as part of a Work Progress Administration (WPA) project now preserved in the Library of Congress.
When my mother died at the age of 83, I found this employee badge among her things. Was it my father's, who worked at the steel mill as a security guard when I was just a kid? Was it my grandfather's, who spent most of his life in the shadow of the hundred-foot stacks? Or someone else’s? I suppose it doesn’t matter, as whoever it belonged to, finding it tucked away in her dresser speaks most to my mother’s secretive nature, as well as to how the mill left its mark on everyone. Even me. Nature, Security Guard, Steel Mill, Employee, Guard, Steel, Mill
When my mother died at the age of 83, I found this employee badge among her things. Was it my father's, who worked at the steel mill as a security guard when I was just a kid? Was it my grandfather's, who spent most of his life in the shadow of the hundred-foot stacks? Or someone else’s? I suppose it doesn’t matter, as whoever it belonged to, finding it tucked away in her dresser speaks most to my mother’s secretive nature, as well as to how the mill left its mark on everyone. Even me.
What are the chances that the Midland house where my mother grew up would somehow still stand amidst vacant lots, nothing else either side of it for hundreds of feet? But there it is, 314 Midland Avenue. I use Google Maps to check back every once in a while, just to make sure it's still there. As silly as it might sound, I expect I’ll feel it in my gut if I check back one day and it’s gone. Here it is as of August 2012. Midland, House Styles, Pittsburgh, Outdoor Structures, Avenue
What are the chances that the Midland house where my mother grew up would somehow still stand amidst vacant lots, nothing else either side of it for hundreds of feet? But there it is, 314 Midland Avenue. I use Google Maps to check back every once in a while, just to make sure it's still there. As silly as it might sound, I expect I’ll feel it in my gut if I check back one day and it’s gone. Here it is as of August 2012.
On the left is my father, James Frank Starr, around 1952, when he would have been about 25. I'm being held by my Uncle Sonny, my mother's brother. To his left is their brother-in-law, Leonard Bloor, husband of my Aunt Kate, my mother's sister. The grime on their hands, and on my knees, says much about our barely-middle-class life, as does the name of the East Liverpool address where this snapshot was made: Daisy Alley. Abs, Calgary, Father, Brother In Law, Brother
On the left is my father, James Frank Starr, around 1952, when he would have been about 25. I'm being held by my Uncle Sonny, my mother's brother. To his left is their brother-in-law, Leonard Bloor, husband of my Aunt Kate, my mother's sister. The grime on their hands, and on my knees, says much about our barely-middle-class life, as does the name of the East Liverpool address where this snapshot was made: Daisy Alley.
It wasn't until I was about 43 that I began making art with any serious intent. One of my first collages employed a snapshot of a teenage Joan Marie Scelp. This marks my earliest disclosure, to myself or anyone else, of the Butterfly Myths. Up until this point I'm not sure that I knew of their existence. Collages, Disclosure, Marks, Point, Joan
It wasn't until I was about 43 that I began making art with any serious intent. One of my first collages employed a snapshot of a teenage Joan Marie Scelp. This marks my earliest disclosure, to myself or anyone else, of the Butterfly Myths. Up until this point I'm not sure that I knew of their existence.
A photo from the early '30s shows my great-grandmother sitting on the front step of a company house in Midland, holding my Aunt Kate (left) and Uncle Sonny (right). The girl in the front would become my mother, Joan Marie Scelp Starr Cartwright Lauria. For every name she took she seemed to live a whole other life, without ever finding her way back to herself. Grandmother, Aunt, Left, Early
A photo from the early '30s shows my great-grandmother sitting on the front step of a company house in Midland, holding my Aunt Kate (left) and Uncle Sonny (right). The girl in the front would become my mother, Joan Marie Scelp Starr Cartwright Lauria. For every name she took she seemed to live a whole other life, without ever finding her way back to herself.
My great-grandfather, Nicola Scoppa, who immigrated to the U.S. from somewhere in the area of Naples, Italy. As a musician, he may represent the earliest known link to the artistic chromosome that ran through his son and, in turn, through my mother, into me, and which now continues into my own children. Naples, Grandfather, Artist, Mythological Creatures, Myths
My great-grandfather, Nicola Scoppa, who immigrated to the U.S. from somewhere in the area of Naples, Italy. As a musician, he may represent the earliest known link to the artistic chromosome that ran through his son and, in turn, through my mother, into me, and which now continues into my own children.