Green, Spring, & The Art of Being Happy

Do you ever look up from your life and think: I'm actually quite happy? Do you ever sit in the garden with a cup of tea, or sing along to a great song in the car, or walk along an autumn/spring street just as the trees are erupting into colour and realise, with a small shock, that life is actually really lovely?

I'm deeply ashamed to say I don't. Not as much as I should. I used to. I'm sure many of us did. Years ago, a good friend told me about CBT and The Art of Gratitude, so I used to practice both of them. Often. Running was another life enhancer. Walking too. (Especially in foreign cities such as Paris: there are few things as lovely as being a flâneuse.) But then my partner and I had a few challenging years. As many of us have had since the media and PS industries hit the proverbial wall...

It started when we bought a big, old, rundown house in the country, which ended up being inhabited by ghosts. (No, I didn't believe in them either, until last year). Then I became quite sick, then kept getting sicker, and nobody could figure out what was wrong. (I'm slowly getting better thankfully). And then the publishing market collapsed, and my publishers collapsed with it. (One of them, Murdoch Books, is even being sold as I write this.)

So I started writing a book about a famous Australian novel (above), which I discovered was cursed. Or, if not cursed, then certainly affected by its own haunting back story. (The story is too complicated to explain but it's incredibly sad.) We eventually sold the big old house and left the persistent ghosts behind. But the entire book industry, meanwhile, kept falling to its literary knees, and still hasn't been able to get back up again.

So, earlier this year, we made the decision to move to the US East Coast where I could perhaps have a better career, perhaps even start my own company, and my partner could have a better career in his industry, and we could buy 3 houses for the price of our Australian home! But then, realising our families needed us, we turned around from our NY reccy and came back again.

Then, to finish everything off in a truly fitting way, we realised that, by not moving to the US, our dreams of having children were probably quashed once and for all. (It would have been easier there, with adoption and surrogacy options, than here in Australia, where such things are impossible.)

I'm ashamed to say that I didn't think about happiness for a long, long, long time.

Until yesterday.

You know those days where everything falls into place, like a high-scoring Scrabble word? Well, this was such a day. It was glorious. I took the dogs for a long walk and realised I could at last breath again.

The scents of the spring hyacinths, apple blossoms and jasmine filled the air, and the soft morning light turned into the most golden day. Some parts of it were showery with spring rains, but other moments were warm and still. There was even a double-rainbow, which acted as a exclamation mark for a pretty sunshower that made our newly replanted hydrangeas perk up again.

I gave the dogs a bone each and sat down to finish editing the last chapters of The Book About The Cursed Novel, and realised it wasn't such a horrific story after all. I went out at lunch and bought an orchid, and a sports bra to go running again, then prepared some dinner for The Loved One. I also made significant progress on The Garden Tour Itinerary (which has been very, very difficult, but will be worth all the effort), and then sorted through 658 photos of Paris and New York for 2 lovely new books that we're about to begin work on. {Image of a Gramercy Park balcony from our faux honeymoon earlier this year: Oh, how I loved Gramercy Park. That was a glimpse of happiness, right there!}

At 5 o'clock, I went for another walk with the dogs, amid yet another sunshower, and ended up near the Botanic Gardens at dusk, which reminded me of this beautiful book (above). It was there, at the top of the hill that The Loved One found me, soaked through and grinning from ear to ear like some Jane Eyre-esque madwoman. Only without the attic. And the match. (He'd arrived home, realised we were out in the rain and come to find us in his car.)

"Hi honey," I said, as we all clambered into the 4WD, soaking wet. "Thanks for coming to collect me. I love you. Life's pretty wonderful, don't you think?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Have you done something you haven't told me about yet?" he said.

I know it's a cheesy thing, but sometimes you just need a bit of gratitude to enjoy life again, don't you think? Why is it that the old-fashioned remedies – a walk, a run, two dogs, some grass, a whiff of jasmine, a toss of a salad, a flick through photos of Paris – work far, far better than any modern therapy methods? I don't know. But I do know that that the old 'Halleluja Approach', as my grandma called it, is vastly underestimated.

{NB Here's K D Lang singing Leonard Cohen's Halleluja here – so beautiful, it will bring tears to your eyes.}

Here's another quick tale. I have a friend in the Bahamas who owns a famous and very beautiful hotel called The Landing, on Harbour Island. I'm helping her and her husband write a book. I may even publish it. One day, several years ago, her little sister, an extraordinary young lawyer who was highly respected in New York, went out running in SoHo. A guy started driving a truck backwards down a one-way street, while talking on his cell phone. The ladder perched precariously on the back of his truck struck her in the head. Just like that. She had no ID so she wasn't identified for several days. She was so respected that when the news leaked out, much of the New York legal community went into shock. Then this friend's father, a GP who by all accounts was another extraordinary soul, passed away. Then, just last week, I learned that her other sister, another remarkable person with a heart of gold, also died. The funeral is in Nassau this week. Hundreds are going. It's being planned as a enormous celebration of life. Which is just what it should be.

So this is what I advocate. Be grateful for the life you have. Even if it isn't quite what you imagined.

Here, to inspire you all on a Tuesday, are some glorious photos of green and spring growth. I'm sorry for the bad metaphor, but I couldn't think of nicer images to illustrate The Art of Happiness. Furthermore, I'm now officially engrossed in The Garden Tours, which are going to be wonderful, and so I thought a few horticultural images might make give us all a little spring in our step today. (Sorry, another bad metaphor!)

So if your career isn't going the way you want to, if your family life is getting on top of you, if your dreams have stalled and your life isn't unfolding quite how you planned, don't worry. Don't worry. Just be thankful anyway. It works. Trust me.

Wishing you all a truly lovely day.

(PS I've caught a cold from the rain yesterday but you don't need to hear that. It would have spoiled a good story!)

The spring windows of Peony, in Hawthorn. Jill always does a beautiful job of merchandising.

Joe's in Greenwich Village, New York. I remember this day in New York. It was sunny. All the cafes had opened their window and doors. Washington Square Park was full of happy dogs. It was a magical day.

The spectacular garden of the Delano Hotel in Miami. Gardening as only Miami can do.

A Marimekko tray from the spring range. Have you seen how Marimekko is coming back into fashion? The new store near the Flatiron building is eye-wateringly beautiful.

    

A bouquet with limes. Love this. Imagine the scent as you walked past?

Love this too. A design by Fulvio Bonevia, via Slim Paley. I love broccoli. Not sure I could do a handbag in it but this is still enchanting.

The parterre potager of a new friend, the always-delightful Bumble at Lynwood Farm, which can be found here, at this blog – here. Bumble's garden is truly amazing. Look at that trim job!

            

Photographs of the countryside by the talented Ben Pentreath. I love Ben's work, and not just his architecture and design. He's a skilled writer and photographer, too. His lovely blog is here.

The library of one of the most stylish people in fashion, Iris Apfel, via Architectural Digest.

Re-reading this, with much joy. Adam Nicholson is one of the best gardening writers there is, next to Monty Don. No wonder really, considering his grandmother was Vita Sackville-West.

Also bought this on the weekend. The images of Italian and English gardens are wonderful.

A curious little Arts and Craft-style cottage at 29 Leggatt Street in Daylesford that recently sold as part of an auction of charming country properties. Another one was Islay House in Woodend (below) – the old Georgian coach inn, and one of the architectural treasures of Macedon.

It sold for just over $550,000, apparently. Even though it was derelict and in a flood zone. So happy to see that someone's going to save it.

Bunny Mellon's conservatory. Have posted this image before, but still love it. Look at that trompe l'oeil. {Via Vanity Fair}

The royal greenhouses in Brussels. Just lovely.

And a gorgeous new restaurant in Sydney called Chiswick, which has its own kitchen garden. Love the colour scheme, and the outlook over the potager. A meal here would certainly make you happy.

And a few more images for the road...

The Sins of Instagram

Confession. I really, really, reallly dislike Instagram.

Sure it's quick, and it's easy, and you can share the photos with the world in seconds. And you don't need to drag an enormous camera around. You can snap life with your iPhone while on the run. But the quality of the photos is so depressing.

When there is so much colour in the world, why would somebody create something that bleaches or sepiarises life? It doesn't make sense. Even the brighter photos have a kind of washed-out feel to them. It's the filters. They're designed to make everyone look like a great photographer but the irony is that all the photos are starting to look the same.

Gauguin and Monet and Van Gogh laboured for years and cut off their ears to show us the beauty in blues, greens and bright, sunflower yellows. Yves Klein created his famous reputation by capturing the joy of the infinite in an ultramarine, lapis lazuli-style pigment now known as International Klein Blue (IKB). While Jackson Pollock spent much of his life in seclusion in the Hamptons, trying to perfect the beauty of his fantastic, multi-coloured messes canvases. So why are we resorting to filtering our life down to browns and greys? (And I bet Oscar de la Renta and Valentino didn't use Instagram to inspire them for their palettes. Why would they, when there is so much inspiration in bright shades?)

           

Instagram is a gimmick, a tease, an invention designed to make us nostalgic for old 1970's polaroids and faded happy snaps from our glory days. We're sharing our lives on it, but are the photos really doing our lives justice?

I don't know about you but I can't look at any more brown sunsets. I can take any more dull, muddy-coloured scenes. Forgive me while I go and take a photo of a spring flower in full bloom, so I can remember the heady sight of natural, unadulterated colour for once.

I suspect Instagram, like many other things, won't be around for long. And I fear for all those people who have taken photos with it. Their computer archives will be full of muted scenes that, in years to come, will seem devoid of energy and life. (NB These photos of Paris are mine; I've bleached them to make them look Instagramish for the purposes of this post. The original ones are much prettier. I don't use Instagram. It's the devil's work, as Miss Faux Fuchsia would say.)

Please don't forget the joy of real colour. Pack a tiny Leica or Panasonica DMZ in your handbag and use that instead. If you can find room for a mobile or cell phone, you can always have a camera in a spare pocket of your bag. The photos from a camera taken without a filter, without a phone, without some nifty Instagramesque influence, will look far more beautiful in years to come. Believe me.

A LITTLE STUDY IN COLOUR

As a quick PS, my niece Alex is studying styling at RMIT University in Melbourne. (Who knew there was a degree in it?) She's asked me to help her with a project this week, so I've been practising beforehand, with a 'faux project' based around the theme of colour. (Just like we did at university all those years ago.) Here are some poor attempts, which Alex will no doubt laugh at. But don't you just love the colours?

The Flowers, Frocks & Botanical Fantasies Tour 2013

Well, who would have thought that a tiny line of copy (so tiny, it was tacked onto the end of a blog post like an after-thought), would lead to such a wonderful, heart-warming display of garden love?

The response that The Library has received to the idea of a Garden Tour has been overwhelming. (Link here)

It was such a small idea: the seed of an idea, really. To be honest, I didn't think many (any) would respond. Well, who has time to do anything but work now? I barely have time to weed our garden. (Which looks more like the film Grey Gardens every day. Only without Jackie Kennedy's cheques to fund the place.) The idea of flying halfway around the world to wander around the potagers, peonies and garden paths of someone else's seemed like folly.

But gardeners love a bit of folly. And ideas – even seeds of ones – can blossom into magnificent things.

And so I'm pleased – really pleased – to announce that there will indeed be a Garden Tour to England in 2013. Providing I can configure it all. (And soon!)

Scheduled to include the 100th Anniversary of the Chelsea Flower Show (aka 'The Big One'), our 'Flowers, Frocks & Botanical Fantasies Tour' (working title; need more G&Ts to workshop it) is shaping up to be a wonderful celebration of gardens, horticulture, glamour, London, literature (we'll be seeing several writers' gardens), and the gloriousness that is England's countryside in high summer.

We'll be seeing this private garden (above and third image from top), if I can secure us a tour. They only allow groups, apparently. So do email me if you're interested in coming and I'll add your name to The Royal List. (Tip: It's best to see this garden before its owner becomes King of England and it becomes off-limits to happy, chattering little gardeners traipsing all over its herbaceous borders. Which may well be soon.)

We'll also be wandering around this famous Arts and Crafts garden, which has inspired and influenced so many gardeners over the years, including Stella McCartney, who drew on its horticultural style for her own country estate.

We'll pop into this garden, once owned by a lovely gardener who contributed a lot to Highgrove's style, and was also known for her skill with vegetable gardens. (Such as her own, above.) 

Some of us may even be lucky enough to stay here, in her house. Others with a limited budget, such as this librarian writing this post, will happily stay at the swanky pub across the road (owned by the same people), and walk across to The Big House for dinner. Oh – and Elizabeth Hurley/Shane Warner live right next door, so if we're lucky, we might be able to say "G'day, how's the garden looking, Warnie? That espalier needs a bit of a clip!" across the top of the box hedges.

And we'll take the tour bus up to this now-famous (some would say infamous, because of its high prices) place, which seems like a farm but is in fact a haute-cultural hideaway of the highest order. Lots of slick farm shops at this place, with lots of hand-made things to buy, including gorgeous gardening stuff, so if you're practising The Art of Frugality, like me, best keep that handbag close.

There will be walks through the English Cotswolds, including the village where Prince Charles proposed to Diana next to a cute old turnstile. (NB I found this supposed image of the Cotswolds on the Net, but I think it may actually be Castle Combe in Wiltshire, another of my favourite places, so don't get your hopes up as we may not go. Unless you all want to trundle down to Wiltshire?)

We'll stay here... 

(NB A famous interior designer designed it so it's more than your average coaching inn. Also has a lovely kitchen garden so our vegies will be crisp-fresh.)

And here...

(Look at the wicker cloches on the dining table. You can tell they love gardeners.)

And perhaps here too, when we're in London.

(Garden colours. Very pleasing. The bathtubs and showers are also very decadent at this place.)

Or here, if I can organise enough rooms?

I travel on a frugal budget (drummed into me by my frugal mother), so I usually opt for a single room in this hotel. But even these are beautiful. Normally this much pink would scare me (I love pink, but perhaps not dreaming in a cloud of it), but this was heavenly. Just heavenly. These rooms even have French doors leading to a huge terrace overlooking the charming architecture. 

Don't worry. If you come on The Tour, I'll give you all these Frugal Contacts.

Some of us may also stay here, depending on budgets.

(Look at the watering cans. All the hotels I've picked have a garden theme, but this is really cute.)

We'll be heading for Chelsea too. It's the 100th year of the iconic flower show, so there will likely be a memorable display of head-turning botanica. Chanel and Karl L won't be there again, sadly (above pic), however fingers and spades crossed that another designer will do a cheeky haute-garden design. Tom Ford, are you listening?

We may even see a celeb or three, carting all their horti-goods to their cars. ("Mr Don, would you like a hand with that?")

And of course around the streets of Chelsea there will be flora galore too, with the Sloane in Bloom competition that coincides with Chelsea. Look at Cartier's window. And French Sole's. There are free guided tours of all these beautiful boutiques and their fine floral displays during Chelsea Week. Don't worry. We'll get you on them. You can thank us with a Cartier ring afterwards.

We'll also have some High Tea (or Bubbly) at this delectable place.

And do some shopping in Soho. (Tip: The fabric stores are fab here.)

And lots more too.

In short, we'll have a wonderful time. 

So take those gardening gloves off, pack up your trenchcoats, wellies, walking shoes and cameras, and come with us to England. It will be a gardening tour full of laughter, leaves, light, planting schemes, stories, and a flower or two.

(PS There are lots more gardens than these scheduled on the tour. And great London places too.)

If you've kindly emailed me to put your hand up for a spot, thank you – I will respond with more details soon. I'm so thrilled that you've expressed interest, and look forward to meeting you!

PS I lived in London for many years, and although my former husband and I lived in a teeny studio, (barely bigger than a dead rose petal really), it was still in a perfect position, just around the corner from Sloane Square, which is near where the Chelsea Flower Show is held each year. So I wandered these streets for six years. I can tell you every gorgeous boutique, every glamorous shoe shop, every secret vintage clothing shop (Chanel for a song!), every inspirational homewares store, and every great bar/pub/bistro within 5 miles. Probably 10. And I'll be more than happy to share every address.