How To Be Happier

Happiness doesn't come to those who sit back and wait for it.

It comes to those who fight for it.

1. Unless you make make being happy a priority, it might pass you going in the other direction without you ever realizing it.

(Lake Pichola, India. 2007. All photos by LBG.)

So start small. Do something positive for yourself tomorrow morning, whether it's fixing yourself a healthier breakfast, talking to someone gently instead of grumpily, or just closing your eyes and thinking about nothing for ten minutes.

(Home, 2012.)

           

2. Try your best not to get caught up in the ridiculousness of life. 

It's easier than ever these days to get sidetracked by meaningless pageantry and unnecessary drama. All it does is surround you in a fog of confusion and obscure you from your goal. When this happens, step away from the mist and focus on what matters.

(Rishikesh, 2007.)

Think of the funny way your dog sighs when he's sleeping. Think of the delight on your friend's face when you gave her those wildflowers. Think of how few ingredients you really need to make a simple delicious meal. 

(Home, 2012.)

3. Remember that chaos is in the eye of the beholder. 

This is a photo of a peaceful morning in India.  

(New Delhi, 2007.)

And this is a photo of hardly any traffic to speak of.

(New Delhi, 2007.)

Chaos only becomes frustrating when you choose to look at it that way. Change your attitude and who knows what you might discover? (Penicillin, Post-Its, Velcro and chocolate chip cookies, for starters.)  

Even better, start collecting chaos. But limit it to the stuff that really speaks to your soul. You'll be surprised what you learn about yourself.  

(Home, 2012.)

4. Remember that a ray of light is easiest to spot when it's surrounded by complete darkness. 

Don't let tough times get the best of you. This is easier said than done, I know. But don't give up. Put your trust in something bigger than yourself, turn on some good music and keep looking for the light.

(Rishikesh, 2007.)

You can start by practicing at home.

             

(Home, 2012.)

5. Remember that even a palace garden is sown and nurtured one square inch at a time.

(Udaipur, 2007.)

Every dream starts out small and fragile and a tiny bit scared. That's why you're there -- to water it and feed it and encourage it and never lose sight of the ultimate vision. There will be a million steps along the way. Take pride in checking off each little one.

(Home, 2012.)

6. In India, they have a saying, "Everything will be all right in the end. So if it is not all right, it is not yet the end."*

(Jaipur, 2007.)

*Line stolen from "The Exotic Marigold Hotel" trailer, which I absolutely cannot wait to see.

Soles with Soul

I've been challenged by the lovely Helena Halme over at her eponymous blog to show off seven pairs of my favorite shoes. After much deliberation, I've made my picks. Here they are, along with the reasons why I love them so:

1.

I bought these sequinned leather shoes in Jaipur, India a couple of years ago from a little boy who relentlessly followed me down the street. "Shoes for three hundred rupees!" he cried (about six dollars). "Here, here, I show you!" The guide we were with pursed his lips in disapproval, but I stopped anyway. The boy untied an enormous cotton bag and revealed a bottomless trove of colorful shoes like these. "My father, he made them." All were beautiful and precious and exotic...and this pair fit me with a Cinderella-like perfection.

2.

If you ever see me dashing around town on errands, I'll probably be wearing these platform wedges from Kork-Ease. (This is actually my second pair, the first pair having passed on after enjoying a rich life in 2009.) Can you say "crazy comfortable?" They come in various colors and styles, but I like the nude cork best. They go with everything, have an organic simplicity that I love and never fail to imbue my psyche with a relaxed, "whatever goes" 1970's hippie attitude (perfect for being stuck in traffic on the carpool run).

3.

Oh, the geisha shoes. I bought them on sale at a hip boutique here in Los Angeles years ago. I think they were maybe $20. I love them because they have a little bell on the bottom of the sole that clicks when you step on it. I wore them to work at "Will and Grace" one day and caused considerable consternation among the sound crew whenever I walked onto the set. Later, someone told me they were training shoes for geishas to learn to walk noiselessly (touching the bell is a no-no). The only way to manage this is to take very little steps and adopt a submissive shuffle. Needless to say, when I wear them, you can hear me coming.

4.

There are countless hiking trails in the Hollywood Hills and my new cross training shoes from Nike are coming with me every step of the way. My last pair of cross trainers was blah-bitty-blah brown, and I love these because they have a slightly glamorous (or, as my husband says, "disco ball") edge to them which makes them as suitable for urban browsing in Paris, Rome or London as they are for a dawn trek up the local neighborhood peak.

5.

Although I love me a good pair of designer shoes, I'm not a brand snob. So when I spotted these boots at Nine West about four years ago, I knew instantly they were the perfect accompaniment I'd long been searching for to go with my Marc Jacobs Couture patent leather 3/4 coat. I love the two-tone color and the nod to classic 19th century spats. It's all about the high-low mix.

6.

This sexy shoe-boot from Michael Kors is my go-to pair for when I am craving a few extra inches in height (umm, which would be always). Lately, I've been wearing them with jeans and my new Irving and Fine Lamu coat with hand embroidered raffia and wooden beads. The built-up platform on the front part of the shoe means your foot doesn't slope down at a painful angle. I wore these at my recent art opening (where I was on my feet all night) and not one tendon or toe filed a complaint.

7.

My friend Suze, fashion editor of Glamour Magazine, made me buy these Jack Rogers sandals the last time I was in New York. "You'll wear them with everything from jeans to dresses." She was right. I've worn them to lunch at the Columbe d'Or in the south of France, to the beach in Malibu and even around my kitchen accessorized with this Tony Duquette-inspired kaftan and a 5pm cocktail.

8.

Bonus pair: I couldn't not include my latest love, this fabulous pair of mid-calf boots from Tory Burch. I only bought them last month, after I spied them at a friend's house and nearly fainted with passion. "Whaa? Hwa?" I sputtered. "Yesterday. Tory Burch. 50% off." I sped over to the store on Robertson and the gods were smiling because there was one pair left in size 7. My heart still races thinking about it.

Beds, Block Prints and Cocktails

This is currently my favorite photo. What's to love? Let me count the ways: India, dapper gent in turban and natty red shirt, gorgeous block-printed textiles, lady in saffron shawl walking by and that divine dusty blue color on the train in the background.

I see this image quite frequently because it's on John Robshaw's website and more often than not, I can be found there trolling for textiles. In fact, it's become my "go-to" activity on these crazy hot days of summer after I've run my errands, done my sit-ups and eaten my daily allotment of sweets. (Confession: Today I fast-forwarded past the errands and the sit-ups.)

After that photo, I click over to this one and stare at all those heavenly pillows inside that classic old Hindustan Ambassador, the hands-down coolest car in India. Love that driver, too.

Then I click over to here and spend way too much time envisioning which quilt, sham, duvet, etc. I am going to purchase for my bedroom someday. I'm particularly besotted with the Etruscan Red print (right stack, second from top, not counting that strewn-open one).

So last week when I visited one of my favorite local shops, Living Room, I took my camera along because I've always felt the owner, Steve, does a great job of mixing that globetrotting chic vibe I'm partial to with uniquely traditional pieces and interesting fabrics. 

I'm a big fan of this couch. The fabric is an organic cotton damask print in a perfect faded indigo blue that can pretty much go with everything.

It reminds me of the ones in Chloe Sevigny's apartment from House and Garden magazine's January 2007 issue.

This Edwardian-style nightstand appealed to me, too. It's elegant and slightly playful, especially in that great Vreeland red.

If I owned this couch, I'd never leave it. It would be a serious problem. You would find me here holding audiences during the day and at night I would change into some fabulous dressing gown, surround myself with stacks of books and sip St. Germain elderflower cordial from a teeny crystal glass. 

The broad confident brushstrokes of this mini-painting of the Griffith Park Observatory grabbed me, especially since I live just beneath it and look up at it every day.

My tour concluded, I was turning to go...WHEN. I. SAW. IT. What's more, my son...WAS. LEANING. ON. IT.  A glorious homage to John Robshaw with Etruscan Red in a starring role. 

People, I bit the bullet.

Here it is at its new resting place, The Kenmore Arms. Yes, I am aware that the photo is tightly cropped. That's because the rest of the room is unfit to be seen (to put it kindly). Everything is John Robshaw except the two pillows which are from Dwell. I love them because they provide a visual link to the headboard, which I just had reupholstered in $4/yard hessian burlap.  

And those two heraldic crests are my babies. I found them at Wurtz Brothers Antique Mart. They're super old (as evidenced by the state of the wood on the back), although whether they were rescued from some crumbling manor or are merely props from an old Hollywood film, I have no idea. (Update: They're Spanish. See comment from "Rocio.")

Placing those gilded sculptures near the humble, peasant-like qualities of the burlap creates a strong visual tension that totally does it for me. I am very, very into the high/low mix. To me, a great room is like a great cocktail party: the ones you remember are always a collection of all different kinds of personalities. 

No sooner had I finished arranging everything than someone came home tired from camp and took it for a test-drive. 

Heaven Can Wait

(In India with Jeannine and Belinda, 2007)

My passage to India in two weeks has been postponed...for a very exciting reason. My travelling companion, Belinda, called me last week with the news that she had been picked to be on the new season of "Dancing With the Stars." I was sworn to secrecy, but the news was announced in the media today and she's on her way out to LA as I type this.  We were going to travel to Rishikesh for a week and attend the International Yoga Festival there, but we can go another time.  She's quite a serious practitioner of yoga, so I have no doubt she'll be able to keep up with all the intense dance training she's going to be doing.    

(Belinda in Udaipur, 2007)

Belinda is one-of-a-kind.  Strong, funny and gloriously eccentric, in the twelve years I've known her she has taught me more about being fearless and embracing opportunities than almost anyone I know. Together we have gone on fairy walks in Ireland, done headstands in the Himalayas, politely turned down horse meat in Kazakhstan, explored creepy cathedrals in the Languedoc, stayed up way too late in London, and meditated at dawn by the Ganges. Whatever she puts her mind to, she usually accomplishes and I have no doubt she will take on this next challenge as enthusiastically as she does all others, with her inimitable grace, style and good humor.  

The last time we were in India together with our friend Jeannine, a blockbuster Bollywood dance movie had just opened called "Om Shanti Om."  It was all anyone was talking about.  We tried to see it several times but it was sold out all over the country, so we ended up settling for the soundtrack, which we played nonstop.  "Om shanti om" means, "Peace within, peace without."  So join me in sending her a blessing of om shanti shanti and a wealth of good karma...and be sure to vote for her!

From XL to S

A Place to Dwell has done a wonderful post on the "not so big house."  Having moved a year ago from a big house into a house half the size, I was nodding my head emphatically at every word she wrote.

When my husband, son and I left NYC in 2004 and ventured to LA (the third such loop in 10 years, mind you, but that's another tale), we were stunned to discover that for about the same price as our Upper West Side apartment, we could purchase this 1928 Paul Williams architectural Mediterranean.  

At nearly 5,000 square feet, the idea was intoxicating.  My husband and I had never lived in anything so grand.  I envisioned my son and his friends running through the corridors playing games of "Hide and Seek"  that weren't just theoretical.  I saw dinner parties that would gravitate into the sexy beamed living room where everyone would have ample room to relax and spread out.  It was a no-brainer.  We pounced.

At first, living there was a marvel.  The house was beautifully preserved with countless original features and in good working order.  We threw some wonderful parties.  My husband and I would wake in the morning and rub our eyes to make sure we weren't dreaming.  It was everything we thought we wanted.

Then, in 2007, I had the opportunity to travel to India with two girlfriends on a three week tour of Rajasthan.  We visited bustling cities like Delhi and Agra, majestic towns like Jaipur and Udaipur and tiny rural villages in Northern Alwar.  I was overwhelmed not only by the country's rare and immeasurable beauty but by its harsh realities.  I came home profoundly changed by what I had seen...and wanting to return immediately.

Train station, Haridwar

Holy beggars, Rishikesh

Temple sign, Udaipur

Family outside their home, Ajarbagh

Village children, Ajarbagh

When I returned to Los Angeles after a month away, I looked at our house with eyes that had witnessed a new reality.  As gorgeous as it was, it no longer appealed.  I remember saying to my husband, "We live in a Hummer.  I want to live in a Prius."

I felt slightly sickened by it. Why did three people need so much square footage?  What kind of a carbon footprint were we casting?  When we were all in different rooms, we were so far apart we might as well have been in separate apartments.  All the space between us made it easier to distance ourselves from one another emotionally as well.  It was sooo not "A Bloomsbury Life."  

As luck would have it, a week later I drove by a 1935 Monterey Colonial for sale just two streets away.  This house was everything our Paul Williams was not:  snug, intimate, bijou-like.  As soon as I stepped inside, I knew it was right.  The floor plan was a classic French lanterne, running just one room deep the length of the house, with big windows and lots of light. Unlike the other house with its many separate wings, running into each other in this one would be blissfully unavoidable.  

When we made our offer to the owner, sitting knee-to-knee in her cozy kitchen banquette, she suggested we all grab hands and pray aloud for everything we hoped would come to pass: a swift sale for us, nice new owners, no contingencies, etc.  To humor her, we did.  Well, somewhere the spirit gods heard our supplications, because nineteen hectic days later we had closed escrow on both, handed over our house keys to a lovely couple and moved into the new not-so-big one.

Prayer offering to Shiva, Rishikesh

It's been a year now and while we feel thankful to have experienced life on a large scale, we count our blessings every day that we are in smaller digs.  We are closer, literally and emotionally.  Thank you, India.  Because of you, we are finally home. 

(A shout-out to ArchitectDesign,  as the lanterne link came through him.)