What is Your Most Prized Possession?
I was reading an interview with author Michael Cunningham (The Hours, Day) in Vanity Fair recently when the columnist asked the most interesting question: What is your most prized possession? Cunningham’s answer was envious. “A handwritten note by Virginia Woolf. It’s like a hybrid of object and living thing.”
The interviewer didn’t ask what the note said, which I believed was a missed opportunity since that’s all I wanted to know.
But the idea of a prized possession did get me thinking. I liked the idea that we all have one or two things that we love and cherish so much that we cannot let go of it. I began to wrack my brain. What was mine? I tend to value experience (travel, plays, books) over material goods (cars, tech devices), so I wasn’t sure. Beyond the people I love, what carries the most value for me?
The first thing that popped into my head was my wedding ring; my husband used his mother’s marquis-cut engagement ring to propose, which always made our union feel like there was strong history backing us up, at least in the symbolic sense. His parents were married for over three decades. Plus, as a historical fiction writer, I always find objects with a strong tie to the past incredibly meaningful. This is a ring I plan to hand down to my own daughter someday, so it is most certainly one of my prized possessions.
But I wanted to search for a different one. Cunningham had Woolf’s handwritten letter; it was so cool! I wanted to figure out what else I might consider prized when it came to my belongings. I walked through my house. In the living room, I stood at my giant floor to ceiling bookcases. Yes, I would certainly try to save all of my books if my house was on fire (a good scenario to use when trying to narrow down what of your belongings mattered most). But I didn’t have one particular book I held in greater esteem, like a special first edition or a signed copy by Hemingway. (Now why don’t I have either of those things…)
“Your antique typewriter,” my 13-year-old son piped into the conversation as I raised the question of a prized possession at the breakfast table. He knew what his prized item was in an instant: His teddy bear he’s had since he was a baby and his Messi soccer jersey.
“It’s true, I do love that turquoise typewriter,” I told him, sipping my too-sweet coffee. “But it’s not my cherished possession because I often forget it’s even there.” That made us laugh.
Later, in my home office, I slumped into my beloved (but not prized) West Elm patterned chair. On my desk, I have all of these antique postcards I pin to a cork pinboard from places I love like Martha’s Vineyard, Maine and the North Fork of eastern Long Island. I adore these postcards, but I could certainly replace them if I had to. If I had to choose, it was old photographs of me and my family that I valued more than these pretty postcards; pictures in albums that were taken before the existence of iPhones that included images of a Kenyan safari or provided evidence of a ballet recital of mine at age seven. “You’re so little, mom,” my daughter crooned, pointing to some ridiculous bonnet on my head.
It was when I entered my dining room that I knew in an instant what my prized possession was. Above the natural wood credenza is an original photograph of Gray Malin’s. If you don’t know Gray Malin, he’s a commercial art photographer that takes these incredible aerial shots of beaches around the world. His images have always inspired me, and when I was a design editor in my early thirties, I would scroll through his catalogue and ogle his work.
Malin takes the most stunning photographs of beaches in Nantucket, Hawaii, the Hamptons, Maine and Cape Cod. Since they’re taken from high above, his images have an added perspective, offering a bird’s eye view of the lives carrying on below. Love this one of Martha’s Vineyard, this one of Montauk and this one of Nantucket.
The one in my dining room is a picture of East Hampton, and when I was writing All the Summers in Between, set in the same beach town, I would sometimes stand in front of the artwork and stare. I love that photograph because the water is so clear and blue and reminds me of the clarity of a summer day. Plus, it’s a limited edition print and it’s signed. I dream of putting another photograph from Malin’s collection beside it, the two pieces creating a dramatic scene.
Do you have a prized possession? What is it? I’m so curious if you’ll be like my son and name it in an instant, or if it will take you some time to think of. Tell me everything.
xo
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