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+.

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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. 

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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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