Lux Lotus

How to Be Remembered

A Transatlantic call with the financier, at ease in his club, sipping Scotch after a long day in Mayfair, lifts the spirits: "I saw you before you saw me. You were walking down the street barefoot" (True–– in a ballgown, gold heels in hand, and it was St. James's).

On Abundance

I snuck out for coffee with a friend whose office is in the neighborhood, which is funny because I was just with her last night at Salon de Ning, but of course that meant there was even more to discuss today. Best of all, I'd recently bought an exquisite pair of jeweled cuff bracelets that turned out to be just a touch small. They fit her wrists like they were made for them, and revealed her to be the rightful owner. It was a pleasure to make the match. After that, I bought so many flowers I could barely carry them, mostly purple irises and tulips and lilacs, fragrant and regal, and long yellow flowering branches of forsythia. I came home to a large box marked "Fragile," with an object of such stunning poise inside that it took my breath away ––– notes the card, in part: "This is anagama-style pottery. Handmade, wood-fired and completely unique. I thought fitting for its new owner." 

On Tea & Sympathy

Took an hour off this afternoon to operate my makeshift Miss Lonelyhearts clinic for a friend suddenly in need ("I was so angry that I may have invoked your name." It's true –– I would not approve, and I would never tolerate that sort of thing. Or is this one of the ones about letting men buy the bubbly?). It's just tea and chocolate and my full attention in my very cozy and dimly-lit apartment. I wish that everyone were in love and wanted my advice on how to spoil their lovers more. Hopefully, next time.

On Resilience

Twice today, someone has asked me how I can find such beauty in life. The answer is always the same: because it is very, very hard.

What to Wear... Uptown?

This afternoon, I'm speaking to students at the Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism, for the third year in a row. The first year, on my way out, I was told not to take it personally that speakers are never invited back. I never do. After that, a meeting at Bar Pleiades. The world is my office, it seems. Later: oysters, if I'm in the mood.

On Expression

A snapshot of the view of my desk, which pleases me immensely. Every letter or postcard that I intend to keep finds its way up there for a spell. What a pleasure it is to re-read the best ones: "You're one of the only people who brings a whole world with her, and asks her friends to meet her there..." and "There is magic in your wake, and I treasure the moments I spend with you..." I try to write a letter every day. I hope that I give as good as I get. 

How to Be Dazzled

Friday night, I was in a cab that went by my friend Laura Lobdell's jewelry shop. I was tempted to jump out, say hello, walk the next several blocks in heels and be late, just to see her smile for a moment, but I could see as we drove past that the shop was closed. "Good for her," I thought, "I hope she's doing something wonderful." Forty minutes later, I was sitting at the bar at Kingswood and realized that she was standing a foot away. I would like to say that the times my heart is filled with such boundless joy are precious and rare, but actually, my life is filled with moments like that. I do realize that I'm an extraordinarily lucky person in that regard. Last weekend, I was having brunch with my favorite venture capitalist at the Bowery Hotel, and my friend Megan, who I'd been thinking about, and who spent Thanksgiving at my house, was seated at the table next to ours. Yesterday, two friends on opposite ends of the continent, one of whom I hadn't spoken to in years, called me on the telephone (my phone rings all day, and part of the reason that Lux Lotus exists is that while I deeply care about so many people, and would like to keep in touch, I could not take every call and still enjoy the solitude and exploring the world through new experiences that sustains me). I love that feeling that we're all connected, and that sentiment, in a beautiful way, complements the best advice I've received, from the afore-mentioned brunch partner, who's known me longer than anyone else in New York. He told me years ago that he'd only ever seen me make one mistake, and consistently; I'd be happier, he thinks, if I realized that no one sees the world like I do. Even in the face of dashed hopes, flaring out like fireworks now and then, I have to admit that it's a lovely place.

On Conduits

Whenever I need to work something complex out in my mind, I bake. Mixing batter and shaping dough have the same tactile patterns as problem-solving (and pottery). When I have unrefined energy that would benefit from a focus, I arrange flowers, as I find incredible inspiration in the combination of disparate elements to create something new. As soon as my intern arrives, for her last day with me –– triste –– I'll send her out for whatever she can find.

On Neighbors

Our dear neighbor came by tonight to let us know that he's moving out soon. We're having Dark & Stormy's, and toasting life. I had another charming neighbor over today for coffee, croissants from Pastis and book talk: Shya Scanlon lives across the square.

On Presence

Spent the evening consoling a friend who really needed one and realized: that period I went though, hanging out meditating in the woods, thinking I can always quit all this and become a Buddhist nun; leaving broke, sweet girls my cashmere sequinned sweaters from Henri Bendel–– yes, I was meant to come back here after all.