Above the couch in my office is a four by six-foot photograph of a stand of aspens in autumn. The name of the piece is Aspen Universe. Long before I owned it, I coveted it.
My son, Craig, has lived in Salt Lake City since attending college at the University of Utah in 2014. Whenever I visit him, we often spend an afternoon in Park City where I first fell in love with Aspen Universe hanging in the Brett Webster Art Gallery in 2021.
Two years ago, I had the chance to visit my photograph. Craig was meeting me for lunch, so I had the morning to myself in Park City. In the gallery I took my time as I admired all the beautiful photographs with names like, Teton Dawn, Mountain Dreams, Fairy Tree. Yet, I was resolute in my desire for Aspen Universe.
I love aspens. How they appear to be shivering when the slightest breeze ruffles their leaves; how the scars from the tree’s own pruning are shaped like watchful eyes; how every tree looks like its own entity but is connected by a root system that makes an entire stand one singular organism. What was there not to love?
As I stood there, I had a mental argument with myself. You aren’t the type of person who buys “real” art. Aspen Universe is ten times more expensive than the painting of Manhattan you bought five years ago at Home Goods. There are more practical ways to spend this kind of money.
As I turned to walk away the art dealer rose from behind her desk as if she could hear the voices in my head. “I can take 20% off the price with free shipping.”
“Deal.” Before I could change my mind, I handed her my American Express card and just like that I became a person who bought art.
I love this story SO much, Ellyn. I am in a season of my life when I find myself coveting beautiful things, and then sometimes, I acquire them, and when I do, I savor those items so deeply. I love aspens, too. One of my favorite parts of living in Colorado.
Wow - I am so happy you have this now. I love how you went with your feeling before you could change your mind - I think often those feelings are the best - and also the most regretted if not acted on.
Turning the couch the other way made all the difference.
For years, it was sideways across the middle of our living room/dining room. When we put it along the wall with the big window instead, suddenly I had my own spot.
It was the same spot as before really, just one end of a beige couch, but the view — and the feeling — had totally changed.
Our daughter’s little nook of a room is through a French door off the living room, so we keep the overhead lights off after she goes to bed. I switch on a little lamp and settle in, stretching my legs out, my new sideways vantage point carrying me down the street.
The townhouses across from us with their front steps that make me think of New York, the small pretty trees along the sidewalk, the pools of light from the streetlamps that are often filled with rain, the dark night just inches away but somehow cozy.
I really felt this one as I am a dedicated re-organizer of my space. Whenever I feel restless but need to stay put, I just re-organize the space and I have a new perspective. I love this new couch placement perspective changer for you!
Outside is my happy place. I'm not one of those that goes off into the forests, or big trips. Those are too far and few in between, as I am a full time caregiver for an almost adult disabled child. I have to create my joy in what I have at home. We spend most of our time at home, since going out and about with a person in a wheelchair who is full care, is, well a lot of work, and is always limited by how long between diaper/brief changes. It gives me about two hours to be out of the house at a time, so I have worked really had to make my home a happy, comfortable place. All of my extra money goes here, well, other than supporting four children, and we do a lot of cheap driving vacations (also, a lot of work considering diaper changes every 2 hours). All of that to say, I think my backyard, which is relatively large is a little oasis, and I use it as much as possible. My favorite spot is where I have set up my hammock. It's just off the path to the pergola and raised gardens, and the chicken coop shed is in the corner and the patio behind me. On one side, there is a small grove of aspens we planted about 8 years ago, and on the other the smallest maple of our three, and also the one that gets the most brilliant colors in the fall. Shading all of that is a massive maple that we built a treehouse and swingset on when the kids were small, and provides tons of shade, and also tons of leaves in the fall. The hammock spot gets both sun and shade, and it good almost all year, because even in the middle of winter we have 60 degree sunny days! The point of all of that is that when I am in my hammock, looking up at the bright bluebird Colorado sky between the leaves of my aspens and maples, I am most at peace. It grounds me in a way that nothing else does. Because no matter what is going on in the world or in my life, the trees are still there, the bees still buzz around the flowers in the spring, the aspen leaves still turn into bright yellow coins. Then it is easier to remember my place in the universe, among nature, noticing and integrating with, rather than distancing myself from the messiness of.
I too am a hammock lover and creator of backyard beauty. I have always (until now) had a garden. I love how you have managed to add so much depth and beauty to your home and created a rejuvenating space to enjoy and integrate with nature. Bravo!
I found this prompt challenging, and not just because I was in an airbnb in Lisbon at the time and had no plans to sit down and write while I frolicked and explored. I thought it was the perfect prompt to miss as I didn’t really want to write about a place in my home, as I don’t really feel like I have a home at the moment. My writing brain did not agree with me on giving this prompt a miss though, and I found myself turning it over in my brain for the past several days. It gave me an idea for a larger piece, so my writing brain wins.
I am currently living in a shared accommodation, not ideal for a fifty something with an OCD husband and a needy diabetic cat, but it was all we could afford until our place in Costa Rica sells and I feel very lucky to have it. It is a nice place, after all, and the young man we are sharing with is rarely home and almost never leaves his room when he is home. Still, he is here, and my husband is not happy about living in shared space, which makes it more difficult for me. It is all someone else's stuff, and the very little we have from Canada and Costa Rica is in a friends storage or still in our suitcases as there is nowhere to put anything. It feels like we live in an airbnb.
So I decided to tell you about our place in Costa Rica. Although I have focussed on letting it go, it still feels like home, and probably will until it sells. I have done several mental exercises to detach from it, and have been somewhat successful, but I think the other aspect of letting it go is finding somewhere to call home here.
My happy place there was the enclosed backyard oasis with my pool, dining area and reading hammock. The pool offered a respite from the heat and a way for me to exercise while I recovered from my many injuries. It was my saving grace from all the craziness of construction that surrounded us and sometimes I would just float with my ears underwater to dull the noise and exist in another dimension without saws and sanders and men yelling. It was also mesmerizing when I needed to just stare into the water and think. I worked on writing projects there in the dining area and watched the rain and the animals of the jungle from my hammock.
This prompt forced me to think about this state of limbo, and how important it is for me to find a home here. It also reminded me of the things I love about my space in Costa Rica, and I have decided to add to my list of must haves a place to hang a hammock and look at water, even if it is inside and just a little fountain. My hammock will be my little piece of paradise.
Aspen Universe
Above the couch in my office is a four by six-foot photograph of a stand of aspens in autumn. The name of the piece is Aspen Universe. Long before I owned it, I coveted it.
My son, Craig, has lived in Salt Lake City since attending college at the University of Utah in 2014. Whenever I visit him, we often spend an afternoon in Park City where I first fell in love with Aspen Universe hanging in the Brett Webster Art Gallery in 2021.
Two years ago, I had the chance to visit my photograph. Craig was meeting me for lunch, so I had the morning to myself in Park City. In the gallery I took my time as I admired all the beautiful photographs with names like, Teton Dawn, Mountain Dreams, Fairy Tree. Yet, I was resolute in my desire for Aspen Universe.
I love aspens. How they appear to be shivering when the slightest breeze ruffles their leaves; how the scars from the tree’s own pruning are shaped like watchful eyes; how every tree looks like its own entity but is connected by a root system that makes an entire stand one singular organism. What was there not to love?
As I stood there, I had a mental argument with myself. You aren’t the type of person who buys “real” art. Aspen Universe is ten times more expensive than the painting of Manhattan you bought five years ago at Home Goods. There are more practical ways to spend this kind of money.
As I turned to walk away the art dealer rose from behind her desk as if she could hear the voices in my head. “I can take 20% off the price with free shipping.”
“Deal.” Before I could change my mind, I handed her my American Express card and just like that I became a person who bought art.
I love this story SO much, Ellyn. I am in a season of my life when I find myself coveting beautiful things, and then sometimes, I acquire them, and when I do, I savor those items so deeply. I love aspens, too. One of my favorite parts of living in Colorado.
Thanks Steph. Never had a moment of regret. :)
Yes! I love your descriptions and I love that you bought the photo.
Thanks Holly. I'm so happy I bought it too.
Wow - I am so happy you have this now. I love how you went with your feeling before you could change your mind - I think often those feelings are the best - and also the most regretted if not acted on.
Turning the couch the other way made all the difference.
For years, it was sideways across the middle of our living room/dining room. When we put it along the wall with the big window instead, suddenly I had my own spot.
It was the same spot as before really, just one end of a beige couch, but the view — and the feeling — had totally changed.
Our daughter’s little nook of a room is through a French door off the living room, so we keep the overhead lights off after she goes to bed. I switch on a little lamp and settle in, stretching my legs out, my new sideways vantage point carrying me down the street.
The townhouses across from us with their front steps that make me think of New York, the small pretty trees along the sidewalk, the pools of light from the streetlamps that are often filled with rain, the dark night just inches away but somehow cozy.
I love this. I find it so amazing how moving our furniture around changes not only the room, but our perspective too.
I love rearranging things, especially when I feel stuck, or need a new start or refresh. Love that you discovered the new arrangement!
I really felt this one as I am a dedicated re-organizer of my space. Whenever I feel restless but need to stay put, I just re-organize the space and I have a new perspective. I love this new couch placement perspective changer for you!
Outside is my happy place. I'm not one of those that goes off into the forests, or big trips. Those are too far and few in between, as I am a full time caregiver for an almost adult disabled child. I have to create my joy in what I have at home. We spend most of our time at home, since going out and about with a person in a wheelchair who is full care, is, well a lot of work, and is always limited by how long between diaper/brief changes. It gives me about two hours to be out of the house at a time, so I have worked really had to make my home a happy, comfortable place. All of my extra money goes here, well, other than supporting four children, and we do a lot of cheap driving vacations (also, a lot of work considering diaper changes every 2 hours). All of that to say, I think my backyard, which is relatively large is a little oasis, and I use it as much as possible. My favorite spot is where I have set up my hammock. It's just off the path to the pergola and raised gardens, and the chicken coop shed is in the corner and the patio behind me. On one side, there is a small grove of aspens we planted about 8 years ago, and on the other the smallest maple of our three, and also the one that gets the most brilliant colors in the fall. Shading all of that is a massive maple that we built a treehouse and swingset on when the kids were small, and provides tons of shade, and also tons of leaves in the fall. The hammock spot gets both sun and shade, and it good almost all year, because even in the middle of winter we have 60 degree sunny days! The point of all of that is that when I am in my hammock, looking up at the bright bluebird Colorado sky between the leaves of my aspens and maples, I am most at peace. It grounds me in a way that nothing else does. Because no matter what is going on in the world or in my life, the trees are still there, the bees still buzz around the flowers in the spring, the aspen leaves still turn into bright yellow coins. Then it is easier to remember my place in the universe, among nature, noticing and integrating with, rather than distancing myself from the messiness of.
I too am a hammock lover and creator of backyard beauty. I have always (until now) had a garden. I love how you have managed to add so much depth and beauty to your home and created a rejuvenating space to enjoy and integrate with nature. Bravo!
I found this prompt challenging, and not just because I was in an airbnb in Lisbon at the time and had no plans to sit down and write while I frolicked and explored. I thought it was the perfect prompt to miss as I didn’t really want to write about a place in my home, as I don’t really feel like I have a home at the moment. My writing brain did not agree with me on giving this prompt a miss though, and I found myself turning it over in my brain for the past several days. It gave me an idea for a larger piece, so my writing brain wins.
I am currently living in a shared accommodation, not ideal for a fifty something with an OCD husband and a needy diabetic cat, but it was all we could afford until our place in Costa Rica sells and I feel very lucky to have it. It is a nice place, after all, and the young man we are sharing with is rarely home and almost never leaves his room when he is home. Still, he is here, and my husband is not happy about living in shared space, which makes it more difficult for me. It is all someone else's stuff, and the very little we have from Canada and Costa Rica is in a friends storage or still in our suitcases as there is nowhere to put anything. It feels like we live in an airbnb.
So I decided to tell you about our place in Costa Rica. Although I have focussed on letting it go, it still feels like home, and probably will until it sells. I have done several mental exercises to detach from it, and have been somewhat successful, but I think the other aspect of letting it go is finding somewhere to call home here.
My happy place there was the enclosed backyard oasis with my pool, dining area and reading hammock. The pool offered a respite from the heat and a way for me to exercise while I recovered from my many injuries. It was my saving grace from all the craziness of construction that surrounded us and sometimes I would just float with my ears underwater to dull the noise and exist in another dimension without saws and sanders and men yelling. It was also mesmerizing when I needed to just stare into the water and think. I worked on writing projects there in the dining area and watched the rain and the animals of the jungle from my hammock.
This prompt forced me to think about this state of limbo, and how important it is for me to find a home here. It also reminded me of the things I love about my space in Costa Rica, and I have decided to add to my list of must haves a place to hang a hammock and look at water, even if it is inside and just a little fountain. My hammock will be my little piece of paradise.