Lux Lotus

LUX LOTUS 'ROUND MIDNIGHT POETRY HOUR

"MEDITATION

I suppose I really
should be out defending
human rights somewhere/feeding
the hungry (apart from my
street offerings to the
homeless people),

somehow improving
the condition of the world/ but
then, it's not such a bad thing, after-
all, to take a peaceful walk down
14th Street, in NYC, listen-
ing to the way the people
talk here & looking
around,

'THIS YEAR I'M GONNA HIT
ST. VALENTINES DAY
WITH A PASSION'

he said
on Avenue
A."

POEM SOURCE: from Guru Punk by Louise Landes Levi.

Windowlicker

I'm workin' on it...

[Frankie Say Relax White T-Shirt, $15]

Windowlicker - from the French for window shopping: faire du lèche-vitrine - appears on Tuesday and Thursdays at 10am EST-ish.

The Weekend Report

Things I have learned in the past 72 hours:

1. People, men especially, are very enthusiastic about my new black leather hood by Kostas Murkudis from Project No. 8 (it's sort of Rudi Gernreich meets Betty Catroux, I suppose), high heels and Carnal Flower. See also: Every moment, and Payless, is full of surprises.
2. One day in yoga class (possibly, but probably not, tomorrow), I will do "Sideways Crow." Why? Because I have always loved crows.
3. Emailing with friends is nice, but it's even more enchanting to see them/you in person. And, work-wise, it's doubly charming to have so many reasons to look forward to Monday and the start of an exciting week! See you Tuesday? Come and have a drink with me, pretty please.
4. I love literature; like, I WANT TO MARRY IT. My sister told me this afternoon that she admired my ability to "get lost in a book for an hour," which she says never happens to her, and I was like, "Get a good book." I'm so deeply enamored of the projects I publicize; each one has bewitched me for a lifetime. Not too long ago, my pal Marco linked to a post where people added meaningful lines. I like the ones that I remember for no particular reason at all; just the idea that my brain has chosen to store such utterly random bits of information makes me laugh. For instance, today I recalled, from Black Swan Green (which I read for pleasure, not work, while out in the country last year): "Dawn Madden’s got cruel eyes like a Chinese empress and sometimes one glimpse at school makes me think about her all day." Or similar. Can you top it?

Pictured: Yours truly, front & center, at Janice's event at Bluestockings on Friday night.

Notes From the Field

(Alternate title: God I fucking hate this war). My father called me last night to say he hadn't heard from me in a while and to remind me of the staggering expectations that pass for small talk in my family. Afterwards, as I walked the rest of my way home in a blue mood, I wondered if I would be destined to always have difficult relationships with people I care deeply for. And then just now as I was sitting in the backseat of a car on the FDR, en route to an event for work, I saw a helicopter hovering over the East River and thought of my dad flying reconnaissance missions in Vietnam, younger than I am now, trying not to die.

Are you still busy?

Just now I had a call for work and I was like, Oh your name is Valerie? Have you heard the Amy Winehouse Zutons cover? I am totally resisting my impulse to sing it on the phone right now. And, since it was confession-time, it turned out much to my surprised delight that I was (once again) on the phone with a Lux Lotus reader! I really should have serenaded her.

Many thanks for your comments! I have such a crush on each and every one of you today.

Pictured: Amy Winehouse, "Valerie."

UPDATE: Who did I run into just a few hours later and recognize from her blog? Jessica from Dilettantsia, who has such a fab look, like Jean Seberg in Breathless channeled through an Almodóvar film! We crossed paths once and then twice at the National Arts Club, where Wayne Koestenbaum read from his very Lux Lotus book, Hotel Theory (I am a new fan!), as part of the PAGE series. I was on a whirlwind tour of the nabe with Kathy Daneman of FSG (we're publicizing Roxana Robinson's new novel, Cost, together later this spring) that was so smashing I very nearly left my new Martin Margiela grey suede cloven-toed pumps at W hotel bar, but I didn't. On my way home, I ran into another friend who told me a story to warm the hearts of Joy Division fans everywhere. And now, sleep; I need it.

Previously: Windowlicker.

Windowlicker

Recently, my sister and I saw The Other Boleyn Girl, which is almost mercilessly tawdry, and is saved only by the almost merciless foxiness of Eric Bana as the petulant tyrant of record. The other best thing about the film is that it led us to go around for the rest of the day ending every phrase with "sis-TAH," said in the most sweetly conniving tone possible. It all reminds me of how much I enjoyed being called "princess" for a brief moment --that coincided with the get-on-a-plane-and-meet-me-for-dinner, you'll-recognize-me-by-my-tiara phase-- last summer. So what could be better then, than an "empress" teapot? Not much, sister.

["Empress" Teapot, $65 from Le Palais Gourmet]

Windowlicker - from the French for window shopping: faire du lèche-vitrine - appears on Tuesday and Thursdays at 10am EST-ish.

The Ex-Boyfriend School of Flattery

Today at lunch:

Me: Did you notice my pretty new dress? (Which admittedly, I am so enamored of I wore it to two parties two nights in a row last weekend)

He: Uh, I think I've seen it before.

At least he showed up from a trip out West with a box of my favorites! And also, typing this reminds me that I can't wait to hear this record.

One Night in Paris

Tonight I had the distinct pleasure of enjoying the sort of intellectually stimulating evening that I savor when I attended a sold-out lecture by French philosopher Bernard Henri-Lévy at the 92nd Street Y, at the invitation of the charmant, as Dana would say, Andrew Krucoff. Henri-Lévy cuts a dashing presence, leaving everyone in his wake discussing how sexy he is, even the boys. Everyone says it's the extra button undone on his tieless white shirt worn with black suit and a slightly disheveled air, but that's not it. Breathlessness aside, I was struck by how remarkable it would be to give a powerful oratory address in a language that is certainly not one's first, perhaps not even second. Widely traveled in Pakistan, Afghanistan, Israel, Morocco and the Middle East at large since 2001, he focused on the contemporary political world stage and theories of war as well as the dangers of fanatacism, cynicism and everything in-between in a historical context. It was a beautifully structured and affecting talk that ended with a dedication to victims of Armenian genocide, as well as a call to form alliances with the unpowerful of the world... "Burundi, Rwanda, Sudan, Colombia, Chechnya... we are in the same boat." At the reception afterwards I chatted with long-time pals like Sarah, Ed and Ron, and admired Isabella Rossellini and Daphne Guinness from afar. And no fewer than five people told me that they plan to attend Upstairs at the Square next week! Perhaps best of all, though, BHL himself came by to say hello when I was chatting with the editor of Guernica and a friend, and so we met. All was charmant.

Previously: C'est French, c'est fatal.

Mind Reader

Last week my fingers brushed across The Solitary Vice on a table in a bookstore, and lingered, but I was already carrying an impossibly heavy Lucian Freud monograph, and so I moved on. And then, wonder of wonders, an envelope arrived in the post today containing none other than the object of my desire. It's easy to see why, as from the look and sound of it, it's "so Lux Lotus." So "very Lux Lotus." More, perhaps, later.

LUX LOTUS 'ROUND MIDNIGHT POETRY HOUR

Someone, somewhere, is always starting trouble...

IMAGE SOURCE.
POEM SOURCE (MORE).