At the end of one of my bookshelves. The soft (cashmere) toy was a gift; see this post to see who made it. The little painted stone a gift from the same person. The little red book is plain and blank inside. It came from a Christmas cracker. I (laughingly) think of it as a little book of emptiness. Note the confetti angels too.
My formal sitting place. I love the way this room is so calm and is used for meditation, clothes drying and spare bedroom. The picture on the wall is of a landscape with a bare tree in the foreground and the moon and a star in a twilight sky. To me it points to home.
This Buddha is made from cement and was probably intended to sit in the garden. He was a gift from my mother. One or two of his toes were a bit damaged so I repaired them before spraying him gold. The frog reminds me to sit like him - bright and wide awareness. Thanks to Shunryu Suzuki for that.
But let's not forget the altar is not just a set up of forms, it's the interplay of the forms of life and the intent behind our actions. The merit of this post is offered to the (physically) homeless person I saw sleeping by the fire escape of my ex employer's office on the morning of my resignation.