My new column (4 of 13), "Entertaining with Her Grace, at Mine," is now at the Weeklings.
I'm in New York, musing on what to do for the summer, and enjoying my little adventures while I plan the next big one. The best thing that a man has ever said to me, in-between kisses as we commenced an affair, would be: You're like a Greek god. Coupled with the woman who suggested I'd climbed out of a canvas at the Romantic show in London, let's say that I know my period and it's Classical. I had fun attending two Solstice parties this week, thinking back to the July when I was in Sweden (where summer's warmth is a precious, joyful thing), and dressed the part. This afternoon, I took the ferry to Governors Island and laid in a field, but not before coming across a little shop and acquiring this exquisite necklace, dipped in 24 carat leaf and reminiscent to me of a show in Oxford (more kisses) of the jewels of the mother of Alexander the Great. It's a beautiful moment in time. Stay gold.
Back from a long weekend in Austin... highlights: breakfast with artist Austin Kleon and his wife, Meg, at Elizabeth Street Cafe, buying a golden-ochre caftan at JM Dry Goods (owned by novelist Jenny Davidson's sister-in-law), dinner at Uchiko on Saturday night, and just easy living, and hanging with my bro. Landed in New York at sunset, now thinking ahead to August and where I'll go next: back to Texas and a desert road trip to Marfa? The West Coast: Portland? Palm Springs? A Tibetan Buddhist meditation retreat Upstate? Better ideas? Please advise. Seeking something mellow and inexpensive and way off the grid.
Long story short, about lately, as it will be from now on, I had La Gitana over for a couple of tarot readings yesterday and she let me know that I need to find a different way to my relationships with men. Tonight I found myself slow-dancing in a haze at 1 a.m. on a Sunday to "Begin the Beguine"... Let me lead, he said. Relax your shoulders. One of the many reasons I love you, he said. You would do this with me. Our busy lives, our oft disconnected worlds, head on shoulder, cheek to cheek, vastly underrated, a vast metaphor.
I woke up this morning, my birthday, to a bottle of Veuve Clicquot from my mother and some presents from my family, that my sister had coordinated and set out alongside a Chocolate Guinness Cake in the kitchen. So things are going well thus far. The last time we had people over, we discovered a bottle of champagne in the refrigerator afterward with no known provenance, giving rise to the new unofficial house motto, "Who brought the Veuve?" Amazingly, some flowers that were sent yesterday from dear friends on the West Coast were delivered by a Lux Lotus reader, the nicest bit of synchronicity that I can imagine. I'll let that bit of proof that we're all connected set the tone for the year ahead. Meanwhile, I've got a new column starting today at the Weeklings, which will run for thirteen weeks. I wrote about the most important thing I learned in my 32nd year. And I was given a beautiful tribute from London, by Lola is Beauty, who wrote about our last little adventure. Off for more.
Tonight I'm off to the Authors Guild Dinner –– this year's theme: "Celebrating 100 Years of Occasional Progress" –– which I'm publicizing, and then Thursday night, "Upstairs at the Square" turns six with one of our rare return guests, Patti Smith (7pm, free, Barnes & Noble, Union Square). Thursday is also my birthday. 33.
My new intern started today, and informed me, as he was looking for a tux (for work, natch), that one can rent a kimono. After we talked shop, I took him to lunch on the terrace at Cipriani, all the while explaining that nothing is really so glamorous all the time.