It was infinitely there. Regardless of spring or winter. Whether she danced for delight or felt like crying. It was there. And green, so verdant green, all year round. It mesmerized her so much that she called herself lvy.
Often in the years of studying English literature, Ivy would set off for England. There she yearned to find what the painted gardens of Klee and Matisse had promised her. Colors, rich colors. Eventually, it became too vapid for her. To only write about what she found inspiration in: all those manuals on gardens and culinary arts. She missed the mountains. So lvy went back, back to Salzburg. To the place where she used to come to as a child: the summer residence of her great aunt.
Beyond doubt, the estate became her favorite place. Especially when she dared to redesign the garden and the house. It must have been in one of those pleasantly happy moments outside in the garden, as she put a vine of the ivy around the fence, that she realized that possessed two amazing qualities: a keen sense of nature and the right hand for unobtrusive hospitality.
Her own thoughts and inspirations
were habitually her best companions.
You rarely see her these days in her gardens or around her beloved fireplace room, though she made sure that hardly anyone would notice her absence. While making you feel at home, she might still be searching for more beautiful gardens, seeking further inspirations. Her constant aim is to make it a pleasant place for happy souls just as herself, to meet such souls in the Villa in laughter and joy. While Ivy works out her plans and ideas, we at Heym Collections welcome you at Villa Ivy!