Can't We All Just Get Along?

I've stolen this headline from an article I just read about my living room in the premiere issue of the new online home magazine "House of Fifty."

(Click HERE)

(p. 58)

A few months ago, the editor-in-chief Janell Beals emailed me about doing a possible feature.

Hi Lisa,

I just found your blog after wanting to find the person behind the living room I included in my latest ideabook written for Houzz. I selected your room to be included in a piece on how bringing floral patterns into a room can introduce a bit of spring all year long. I particularly liked your room because of its interesting mix. However, for some reason a couple readers decided it was time to bring on the criticism full force.

The comments left on the ideabook started a conversation between my husband and me about subjective design, which led to me deciding to write an article for my upcoming e-zine on this very topic.

I emailed Janell back that I found it kind of amusing that someone would choose to get so worked up about pairing a zebra rug with Peter Dunham's "Samarkand" fabric...and to write whatever she wanted. Absolutely.

Well, the premiere issue launched today and I think Janell's article is fascinating because it addresses something that I notice happening more and more frequently in the blog world.

I'll let her tell it:

"Why is it often difficult to experience disagreement with another's point of view without getting upset? Is it not possible to express that one would not have made the same choice, without tearing down what another has done? Why is it so hard to have a difference of opinion and be comfortable with the fact that not everyone shares our point of view?"

Let me make this clear: I'm SO NOT offended whether people like my house or not. It's small and weird and colorful (like me) and if you're a beige-on-beige addict, I would kind of expect you to run screaming from it. And that's fine. Because one's home is a visual autobiography of the people who live there -- not anybody else.

Here's the bigger issue:

1. Why are the personal choices of total strangers such an affront to some people?

2. Has it become impossible for us to co-exist peacefully if someone has a different point of view?

3. Why is it still so darn hard for us to celebrate each other's differences?

Janell goes on to write:

Perhaps a key to being okay with a conflicting opinion begins with not only being comfortable, but secure, in our own; understanding that there is nothing to be lost by accepting and hearing another's opinion.

Obviously, this is one smart lady.

All this got me thinking and, as usually happens when I start thinking, my thoughts turned to England.

In her book "The Anglo Files", Sarah Lyall writes of the cheerful streak of anarchy that runs through the British personality.

The British may be conformists, but paradoxically, they also demand the right to be left alone to practice their individuality.

In England, you have some of the most upright and proper people in the world living side by side with some of the most peculiar people in the world. All are secure in the knowledge that they are doing what feels true for them.

(Banksy, "Old Women Knitting Punk Slogans")

You have to love a country in which being "a little Brit different" is not only accepted as a legal birthright, it's borderline canonized.

Edith Sitwell

Quentin Crisp

The Marquess of Bath

Vivienne Westwood

Alexander McQueen and Isabella Blow

Grayson Perry

My friend Amanda Eliasch

Mr. Pickwick

Now if you'll excuse me, I have a speech to write and a royal wedding to prepare for.

xx/Lisa

Salvaging Sunday

One recent Sunday morning, Piero, Luca and I were sitting around the breakfast table in a bit of a funk. It had been raining for days, the internet and cable TV were down and we were all feeling psychologically waterlogged. There didn't seem to be much in the way of enlivening conversation.

Luca: What are we doing today?

Me: Same as yesterday.

Luca: Yesterday was boring.

(Pause)

Piero: (to Luca) What do you want to do?

Luca: Have friends come over.

Me: Today's too busy.

Luca: What about tonight?

Me: Tonight? It's Sunday.

Piero: I have to work tomorrow.

Luca (to us) Now you're boring.

Talk about an instant game-changer. Piero and I looked at each other in horror. Had we become so stodgy and set in our ways that we couldn't make a last-minute plan to invite friends over for dinner?

Had the heady thrills of spontaneity vanished from our lives?

Were we fated to trudge forward into the future with some dreary prearranged itinerary clasped in our hands?

Umm, that would be no.

But it would have to be simple.

It would have to be fast.

And it would have to be fun.

Were we up to it?

Umm, that would be yes. Check out our night below:

The Way We Live Now

The April issue of World of Interiors arrived in the mail on Saturday. And as much as I'm enjoying the love troubles of Lily Dale in "The Small House at Allington"...

...I'm afraid that WOI trumps Trollope.

What is it about this particular magazine that arouses such heart palpitations in me? It's not just the glimpses into castles in Tuscany, flower-bedecked dower cottages in Sussex or F. Scott Fitzgerald-ish villas in Cap d'Antibes that make my palms clammy -- it's the life and soul that seep out from every photograph. Rarely does WOI feature people in their interiors, but one is still filled with the sense that the Aga cooker is heating up something fragrant, the sofa cushions are warm to the touch, and just around the corner there's an Alsatian snoring away on a kilim. It's high style that's inviting and embraceable.

This ethos of embracing unfussy comfort seems to be gaining ground lately. On Saturday, the "Off Duty" section of the Wall Street Journal had a wonderful article called "The Rise of the Personal" which documents the current passion for creative imperfection. "The [new] fantasy of the undecorated house is Tuesday morning as it is actually lived," as writer Katie Roiphe so brilliantly puts it.

Now don't get me wrong. I have massive reverence for interior designers -- Peter Dunham, David Netto, Nicky Haslam and Jacques Grange among them. To me, these decorators possess the innate knowledge that people want to live in homes that mirror their own passions and idiosyncrasies and not someone elses. They use their immense talents to create glorious possibilities for their clients, ones in which comfort, wit and sincerity are always in plentiful supply.

Continuing this same theme, I went to a party last Tuesday:

Bad-Tempered Weather, Good Tempered Homes

Apologies for the delay in yesterday's post. A "Wuthering Heights" like storm deluged Hollywood on Sunday and left our house in the Victorian age, technologically speaking. I usually don't mind when that happens as it turns the day into one filled with nineteenth century pursuits, but I felt badly that I was incommunicado. As it so happens, I'm now sitting down the street at my neighbor Princess Olga's house typing on her Macbook in order to get this week's webisode out to you.

And now, fingers crossed, "The Domestic Explorer"...

(Oh, and for those who asked, the music is "Prelude" by Alexandre Desplat from the "Birth" soundtrack.)

Of Hearts and Hearths

First things first.

(photo via here)

Like all of you, I am heartbroken by the violence and devastation caused by the Japanese earthquake and the catastrophes that continue to unfold.

For those of you wishing to help, here are a few organizations mobilizing immediate relief efforts:

You can donate $10 to the Red Cross instantly by simply texting "REDCROSS" to 90999 from your mobile phone. (More legal info HERE).

To donate $10 to International Medical Corps, text "MED" to 80888.

To donate $10 to Global Giving, text "JAPAN" to 50555.

To donate $10 to the Salvation Army, text "QUAKE" to 80888.

If you would like to recommend another worthy organization, please let us all know in the comments section.

* * * * *

Next things next.

This book is wonderful. I read it during my blogging break and was so entranced that I almost cut my hiatus short to tell you about it.

(Available HERE)

Bill Bryson had the brilliant idea of using his own 1851 rectory in Norfolk as a template to unravel the saga of domestic life. In each chapter, he "journeys" to a different room in his house to write a history of the world without leaving home.

"Whatever happens in the world -- whatever is discovered or created or bitterly fought over -- eventually ends up, in one way or another, in your house. Wars, famines, the Industrial Revolution, the Enlightenment -- they are all there in your sofas and chests of drawers, tucked into the folds of your curtains, in the downy softness of your pillows, in the paint on your walls and the water in your pipes. So the history of household life isn't just a history of beds and sofas and kitchen stoves, as I had vaguely supposed it would be, but of scurvy and guano and the Eiffel Tower and bedbugs and body-snatching and just about everything else that has ever happened.

Houses aren't refuges from history. They are where history ends up."

~ Bill Bryson

It's part detective novel, part biography, part whodunit and wholly entertaining.

* * * * *

Last but certainly not least, I have been waiting forever to finally be able to tell you that my house is featured in the just-released book "Undecorate" by Christiane Lemieux, founder of Dwell Studio.

(Available HERE)

What does "undecorate" mean exactly? I'll let Christiane tell you:

Undecorate is about putting your philosophy first, putting your personality first, and letting your signature style blossom naturally from the decisions you make.

~Christiane Lemieux

I was extremely honored to be a part of the book because, design rules aside, my home is definitely a visual kaleidoscope of my family's heart and soul. From the wallpaper, fabrics and mix-and-match furnishings to the art, books and daily clutter, we surround ourselves with things that add meaning to our lives.

The night before the actual photo shoot I couldn't sleep a wink -- not because I was nervous but because I couldn't believe I was actually going to meet all these fabulously talented people!

There was uber-chic Christiane who came in and infused the house with her warmth, her effusive spirit and limitless energy. Within minutes, I felt like I had known her for years. It was a privilege to spend the day with her and pepper her with questions about her fascinating life and adventures (there was a trip to Cambodia that sounded very "Year of Living Dangerously").

(Christiane Lemieux)

There was globetrotter/photographer Melanie Acevedo whose iconic images you would recognize from every design magazine out there (Vanity Fair, World of Interiors, House Beautiful, Elle Decor, Domino and countless others.) Her photographs exude a warmth and quiet intimacy that can make a even rumpled bed seem like the most elegant destination in the world.

(photo via Melanie's website)

And then there was the friendly crew led by Christiane's chief dynamo Molly Peterson (the one who found my blog in the first place). The day flew by and when they finally packed up their cameras and computers and drove away, Luca and I felt a bit bereft.

All in all, there are twenty different homes in the book, each featuring their owners' idiosyncratic take on personal style. I've been taking it to bed with me the last two nights, so inspired am I by everyone else's way of looking at the world.

(My office. Photo by Melanie Acevedo from "Undecorate.")

Look Everywhere

If every person were required to adopt a motto that encapsulated their view of the world, mine would have to be this:

(Available HERE)

Whether it's the crimson red of a Royal Air Maroc boarding pass that leads to buying a new bedroom lampshade....

Or the kitchen scenes in "Downton Abbey" (can we pause to drool over that series for a moment?) that suddenly make you reconsider a flagstone floor....

Or the reckless spread of flowering potato vines at a local restaurant that spark an idea for adding style to a front door....

"Aha" moments are everywhere if you just look for them.

When it comes to travelling, I am most enticed by destinations in which there exists a precarious balance between unruliness and order. The souks in Marrakech were not only a kaleidoscope of culture, they were a barrage of colors, textures and ideas. Yes, it was hodge-podge; yes, colors clashed; yes, there was more pattern-on-pattern that seemed possible for the human retina to absorb, but everywhere you looked there was something that seemed to jumpstart a dazzling flash in your brain.

And don't even get me started on Scotland.

Or click HERE.

Hello Again

Come over here and sit down. Take the chair next to the fire. Put your feet up. I'll grab a big pillow and sit on the floor.

I have something to tell you.

First of all, thank you so much for all your lovely comments over the past two months.

I missed you.

The truth is, I fell into a blogging wormhole.

* * * * *

Toward the end of 2010, I woke up one morning and realized that I was living a life antithetical to everything that "A Bloomsbury Life" champions. In September, I was happy-happy and full of energy and positivity but then as the months collapsed and the days became darker, so did my spirits. It happened slowly, for no discernible reason, by infinitely small degrees. Around mid-November, I became aware that my fierce love for the interior charms of winter months had vanished. I realized I wasn't really entertaining or having dinner parties. I no longer noticed the beauty of small moments. I wasn't exercising. I didn't see my friends that much. I certainly wasn't an optimal wife or mother.

My existence had been reduced to one of four phases:

1. Worrying about what I was going to write next.

2. Researching what I was going to write next.

3. Writing it.

4. Pressing the "Publish Post" button, at which time I would immediately start worrying about what I was going to write next.

Let me say right now that I get down on my hands and knees in abject admiration for all the amazing bloggers out there who tirelessly commit themselves to writing multiple posts a week. I don't know how they do it. I think they must be made of stronger stuff.

* * * * *

Long story short, I'm feeling much better now. What changed? For one thing, I gave myself back the gift of time. I recommitted myself to living in the moment. (And when you're not spending 50 hours a week blogging, a lot of moments pop up.) When my son asked if I would sit outside and watch him shoot hoops, I said yes. When my neighbor rang the doorbell and invited me to go on an impromptu hike in the Hollywood Hills with her two dogs, I said yes. When my husband opened a bottle of wine after dinner and called up, "Are you going to come downstairs and watch Top Chef with me?", I said yes. I had stupidly forgotten that these little things matter a great deal.

In other words, I've been trying to do what I always tell everybody else to do: Live with passion and purpose and be happy while you can.

* * * * *

During my hiatus, I spent a great deal of time thinking about this blog and how I wanted to wake up as excited to contribute as I was when I first started it. I want to give you my best self but, to be frank, the idea of doing three posts a week again scares me. I don't want to fall into another wormhole. Also, it's a new year. I want to try new things. Mix it up a little. So...(drumroll, please).... From now on, every week will feature a written post OR a short webisode (yes, webisode!) made by yours truly.

The series will officially begin next week, but here's a little preview:

Or click HERE.

I hope you like watching it as much as I loved making it.

More to come,

xx/lisa

Happy. Holly. Daze.

The weather outside was delightful, if your taste runs to wet and wild.

But inside, it was cozier still.

In the parlour, there were wellies drying by a winter fire...

...and a hearth crackling with sweet-smelling logs of olive, almond and eucalyptus.

Breakfast was cooking on the Aga...

and a snug, warm corner yearned impatiently for someone to sink upon it...

...with a gripping read, a stack of paper-thin pancakes...

...and a steaming libation.

(Should tastes run a bit stronger, there were a myriad of concoctions waiting to be mixed, heated, jostled and stirred, depending on one's preferences.)

Of the two young creatures in the house, one was stirring...

...and the other -- who had earned some iPad time -- sat cross-legged in a joyous trance.

The rooms, though not overly large or grand, were full of calm and comfort.

And the lights, they twinkled.

I send all of you warm wishes for the merriest and most peaceful of holiday seasons and hopes for a prosperous 2011.

* * * * *

It is with a pang of regret that I must tell you I have decided to take a two-month sabbatical from this blog in order to explore some opportunities which have arisen; as much as I love to write "A Bloomsbury Life", there just aren't enough hours in the day to do everything. I shall miss your funny, wise comments and our wonderful dialogues about all and sundry. You have transformed my view of the world: it now feels to me like a great big rollicking dinner party welded together by friendship.

I hope to return to you in March refreshed, revitalized and ready to go full steam ahead.

A Passion to Inspire: Miguel Flores-Vianna

There are some people who just have a genetic flair for the art of living well.

Miguel Flores-Vianna is one of them.

A former editor-turned-photographer (not to mention artist/global nomad/bon viveur), Miguel embraces life with an ardor that spills over into every corner of his existence.

(Photograph courtesy of Miguel Flores-Vianna)

Trust me, you know Miguel's work -- it's been featured everywhere from World of Interiors, Elle Decor, C, Domino, House & Garden and countless others. His warm, vibrant photographs exude the kind of seductive beauty that makes you wish you could crawl inside them.

(Above two photos via Miguel's website)

Take the one below, for example. Deceptively simple at first, gaze at it for a moment and the emotional tension created by all those contrasting motifs practically explodes: Ephemerality versus permanence. Man versus nature. Remembrance of times past versus the fathomlessness of the universe. It almost makes me weepy.

("Kardamily" photograph, 24" x 24", $699)

Recently, Miguel alerted me to the fact that he's having a One Kings Lane Tastemaker's Tag Sale on Tuesday, December 7th at 6pm PST. (Lucky, lucky us.)

As he told me, "It's a very personal sale of my photographs, art, furniture, fabrics, china and travel mementoes. All of the items were at some point part of my homes or were bought with a specific project or place in mind. I always welcome certain changes in my life; therefore, when OKL asked me to participate, it felt right to put some things up for sale."

Despite his hectic schedule (he was en route to the airport), Miguel was kind enough to answer a few questions I put to him. I've interspersed them with some of the items that will be available to purchase on Tuesday. Enjoy.

What inspires you?

People and travel inspire me the most.

(Vintage Greek royal flag, $199)

(Louis XVI style chair upholstered in brown and white stripe, $629)

What color palette are you continually drawn to?

Color preferences tend to depend on my mood and yet there are certain colors which have stayed with me forever. I always and only wear orange socks. My favorite shirts (of which I have countless) are in blue-and-white striped fabrics. I marvel at the beauty of faded red velvets and of course I love "l'heure bleue", that magic moment at the end of the day when the light is almost gone and night is around the corner.

("Piamonte" photograph, 24" x 24", $699)

Who are your style icons?

I don't have style icons and yet I am so inspired by the life of the writer Patrick Leigh Fermor, traveller, war hero, sportsman, architect and erudite - and of course amazing - writer.

("Siracusa" photograph, 24" x 24", $699)

Where is your favorite vacation spot on earth?

Although I have been to all the oceans and continents of the world, it is the Middle Sea, the Mediterranean, that represents for me the ideal summer vacation. That mixture of azure waters and dry rocky coasts enhanced by gnarled vegetation, the fragrance of honey and pine and the amazing presence of rich cultures and old histories is my idea of paradise. The sounds of cicadas by the sea, whether in Greece, Italy, Spain or Turkey, is the most beautiful music I could ever expect to hear.

("Alessandro, Lulu and I/Home" photograph, 24" x 24", $699)

How do you relax at the end of the day?

I like baroque music a lot - Ignaz von Biber, for example - and ideally it is snowing outside and there is that gentle quietness of snow, soft and crunchy and mysterious, and maybe it is past midnight, the perfect time to have some tea sweetened with fruit preserves, to give it the scent of past summers. This is the time to remember the color of someone's eyes, to hear the gentle snores of the dogs one loves and to dream about the next mountain to conquer.

("Bed/Home" photograph, 24" x 24", $699)

What do you serve when friends are coming to dinner?

I grew up in Argentina - so much red meat, I rebelled against it! To this day, in these complex times, I still think that roast chicken is heaven.

("Lars Table" photograph, 24" x 24", $699)

Is there a novel that changed your life?

I am not totally convinced that a book could change my life. But the sum of a few have given me a sense of direction...

As a child, my mother read a lot of Hans Christian Anderson and The Brothers Grimm to me.

My adolescence was peopled by the romantic visions of Alexandre Dumas and the wild Norse myths.

In my twenties, there was only "The Sheltering Sky" by Paul Bowles.

My thirties were consumed by the Russia I saw in "Anna Karenina" - it made me appreciate anything that was produced by that amazing country in the 19th century and introduced me to Napoleon who, through further reading, became so much more real and human and interesting.

Now, in my forties, I have finally given in to biography and Patrick Leigh Fermor has become my blazing star.

(Turkish dervish dancers, set of two, $159)

(Pair of marbleized plates handmade by Miguel Flores-Vianna, $89)

(Watercolor by Yuri Suzuki, $769)

What is your idea of perfect happiness?

These days I am at my happiest when I am with Daisy and Nacho, the two - to me - most lovable Labradors in the world.

Last question. An easy way to make life more glamorous is...?

Humility is the sign of true glamour.

("Mama" photograph, 12 x 12, $399)