through my lens: taking on Salt Lake City

delighting in the little things.
snapshots of my week (and those things) // Salt Lake City, Utah

The secret about one of my favorite cities, Salt Lake City, Utah seems to have gotten out. My family’s roots run deep in SLC — they’ve been here for over 100 years. Growing up in New York, it was hard for my parents to get us out to visit often; flying six kids out west comes with a not-so-pretty price tag. So, as an adult, I’m making up the lost time. A few weeks ago I was lucky enough to spend 5 days with my family, soaking up the breathtaking beauty — and prime shopping, specifically thrift/vintage — that the Wasatch Front has to offer.

1.  This framed photo of my great-grandmother, Bonnie, and her boys.

2.  If this quirky little flask was made to hold a glass of wine, I’d be sold. The store I found this in was massive; a hybrid between a retail shop and a barbershop. It was an interesting (and very trendy) concept shop.

3. The gilded age. This mailbox, which is in the lobby of my grandfather’s office building, stopped me in my tracks. I’m a sucker for gold, letters, and most objects that are 50+.


4.  This cup of morning espresso with this peaceful backdrop was a dream. My grandparents have an impressive collection of pottery (see blurry mug), which piqued my interest in the one-of-a-kind pieces. They also have an impressively magical garden oasis, which is quietly tucked away in their backyard. Oh, and that Kokopelli piece. 


5. Last but certainly not least, Bonnie Lodge. Originally built somewhere in the early-1900s, it was rebuilt around 1920 after a fire burned it down. It has been shared by my family for generations and was my great-grandmother, Bonnie’s, sanctuary (hence the name). It oozes old-time charm and is essentially a time machine that takes you back to the days when Brighton Mountain was speckled with only a handful of cabins and overrun with wildlife. Being there slows the time down… until the spiritual presence makes the hairs on your arms stand up, that is. But I suppose knowing the spirits are those of my silly and loving ancestors takes the eeriness out of it.



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