Looking for Thelma and Louise

Wikibea is experimenting with video reports and has added the first one to You Tube here : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EwqdEWMGcII
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gSXKauilxhA

Remember the mezmerising road movie Thelma & Louise (1991)? My trip to the canyons was a pilgrimage to outdoor movie making before computer generated backdrops became the rage in Hollywood. Arizona and Utah are blessed with grand lanscapes, quintessentially western. In the 60s, John Ford's outdoor settings made the geology student I was dreamed of "roughing it out" in a dusty wilderness of ocre colours. Actually I fullfilled my outdoor longing by moving to Australia. I had promised myself to trail blaze like John Wayne, Robert Redford, and Thelma & Louise in the real western country.

With police cars closing in, Thelma & Louise drove past the "mittens", the red sandstone monoliths of Monument Valley. Finally cornered, the two doom girls decided to end the wild chase by literally going over the cliff. The film ends with a freeze frame of their convertible in mid-air over Dead Horse Point. This south Utah location owes it fateful name to the tragic demise of wild horses, which legend has it were abandoned and died of thirst only couple of miles from the water of the Colorado river.

The second slide show includes Wikibea's pics of two national parks in south Utah. The hoodoos, the stone men of Brice Canyon will take center stage.

Rio de Janeiro: A French Obsession

 
If the French had not settled in the Bay of Rio in the 16^th century, the city would never have been founded. This is not to say that the Portuguese were unaware of Baía da Guanabara (Guanabara Bay), as the area is known. They had cruised along the shore, but the bay had not interested them. The vast territory which was to become Brazil had been officially claimed by Portugal in 1500 when its fleet, under the command of Pedro Álvares Cabral, landed in Porto Seguro 1100 km north of today’s Rio. Actually, a couple of months earlier a Spaniard named Pinzón, a companion of Cristobal Columbus, had landed further north. But, a Spanish-Portuguese treaty had already earmarked the territory for Portugal.
The Portuguese claim didn’t prevent Dutch, Spanish and French navigators to maraud along the coast in search of Pau-Brasil, Brazilian wood valued at the time for its red dye. Then in 1550, a French aristocrat named Nicolas Durand de Villegagnon entered the Guanabara Bay with two ships and six hundred soldiers and colonialists. He built the small Coligny fort on a tiny island which now bears his name. Villegagnon’s purpose was not to plunder natural resources but to settle. He founded the France Antarctique colony.
Villegagnon was a colorful character even by 16^th century standards. His CV is impressive; he started his military career as a Knight of Malta and fought the Turkish fleet in the Mediterranean Sea. Villegagnon was also a scientist, explorer, entrepreneur and adventurer, the last two occupations probably being the same thing. He was born a Catholic but had been drawn to the Reformation of Jean Calvin. His religious beliefs are still a matter of argument as they might have changed with his luck.
                                        
                                             Villegagnon Island, Guanabara Bay.
The purpose of France Antarctique colony was to have a place to settle Swiss Protestants and French Huguenots along with some Catholics. During this period, France and other parts of Europe were at the stage of bloody sectarian violence between the dominant Catholic population and those who had recently embraced the Reformation. It was pure Utopian to believe that the two religious communities could live in peace on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean. As old habits die hard, soon after landing the colonialists started bickering, to the puzzlement of the local Tamoios Indians. Villegagnon left the island to seek reinforcements but never came back.
The Portuguese army defeated the ragtag survivors in 1567. The French dreamland had lasted nearly ten years. Euphoric with his victory, Estácio de Sá, the young Portuguese commander, subsequently founded the city of São Sebastião do Rio de Janeiro, Rio for short. It was not a total loss for the French. To drop their territorial claim they received 30 000 gold ecus from the king of Portugal. The episode is purposely remembered when the cariocas, the citizens of Rio want to nag the Portuguese: a French Rio would have been so much more glamorous!
Pirates and French, English and Dutch privateers continued to roam the coast of Brazil. Again the French had a knack to pick good spots. They traded with the Indians in the bays of Buzios and Cabo Frio not far from Rio. During the 20^th century, these two fishing villages became sophisticated resorts visited by the rich and famous, including French icon Brigitte Bardot. In 1612, once again the French landed in Brazil, this time in the far north. They named their new colony Equinoctial France and built the fort of Saint Louis named after the King of France. The settlement was short lived; it was rapidly conquered by the Portuguese in 1615 and renamed São Luis. For a short time, the city was also occupied by the Dutch.
Brazilian coastal cities didn’t see much threatening French action until that fateful month of August 1710, when a Caribbean-born privateer named Jean Francois DuClerc tried to invade Rio. Gold had recently been discovered in the heartland of Brazil, in a region which became the state of Minas Gerais. Gold attracted the interest of DuClerc who wanted to endear himself with the Sun King. The king’s coffers were empty. DuClerc convinced the king to give him six ships and thousand and two hundred soldiers and sailors in order to invade Rio de Janeiro and steal its gold for France. Unfortunately, this straightforward plan went awfully awry.
The Portuguese were tipped of DuClerc’s arrival and the entry of the port of Rio was heavily defended, compelling the French to land in the swampy Barra da Tijuca 20kms west of the city. They had to trek back under the heavy fire of the Portuguese defense. Four hundred soldiers were killed and the survivors were taken prisoners, DuClerc included. The later was taken to a Jesuit monastery on top of Castelo Hill (leveled during the early 20th century urban development). His new home was not to his liking. After arguing that he had no vocation to become a monk, he was moved to the house of a Portuguese officer in downtown Rio. In September, DuClerc was murdered by hooded men in mysterious circumstances. The debonair navy officer had probably been assassinated on the order of a jealous husband. Who knows, taking the oath of chastity might have spared DuClerc’s life.
Not only was France still broke, but its self-image was severely bruised. Immediate retaliations seemed necessary. Now enters the resolute René Duguay-Trouin. He was a native of the port of Saint-Malo in Normandy where his family owned a shipping business. This walled city is fabled for having been the breeding ground of generations of French pirates and privateers. Museums to their glory draw visitors, and a statue to Duguay-Trouin graces one of the city’s squares. As a seasoned privateer, Duguay-Trouin was an expert in the art of ransacking, and he had many naval victories under his belt.
                                                              
                                     Duguay-Trouin and the Sun King
On 21 September 1711, commanding a twelve ship strong fleet, he appeared in front of Rio. His fleet had entered the Bay of Guanabara with divine help, hidden by a thick fog. In an eleven day battle, his two thousand and six hundred men defeated a stronger Portuguese garrison. After capturing the hapless governor and his men, and freeing the prisoners, the sack of Rio started in earnest. It lasted for two months. The terrified population abandoned its houses and fled to the forest. On November 13, Duguay-Trouin was ready to leave with an impressive but diverse bounty; it included tons of sugar, two hundred heads of cattle, piles of money, bags of gold, church artifacts, and £4 million worth of African slaves. The slaves were promptly sold in Cayenne, the ramshackle capital of French Guyana. The ships were so heavily loaded with loot that a couple of them sank during the journey back to Saint-Malo.
Rio was left reeling, but France had restored its reputation as a nation of dare devil corsairs. The king rewarded Duguay-Trouin with title and land. He was to continue his brilliant navy career but his extravagant and lavish lifestyle left him so destitute that on his death bed he begged the new king a pension for his widow. Duguay-Trouin’s success marked the end of French aggression towards Rio de Janeiro.
The next French foray took place in 1816. Not only was it peaceful but it was welcomed. In 1807, Napoleon had invaded Portugal forcing the Portuguese royal family to flee to Brazil. In 1808, Rio became the capital of the kingdom of Portugal and Brazil. It was still a backwater in great need of cultural shine. In order to correct this situation, the king invited a group of French artists to Rio. Having worked for the defeated Emperor, they were unemployed and therefore keen to accept any work opportunity, even in Brazil. A former court painter, Jean-Batiste Debret, was the most famous among the group. He became a painter of everyday life in Brazil and that of Rio in particular.
 

His sketches of street scenes, as well as his official commissions of court life, are unparalleled documents of the period. The French mission created the first national art school. During the same period, many foreigners, adventurers and naturalists were invited to visit and document Brazil. Consequently France began to be regarded as a paragon of fine art and class.
This love story with French artists lasted longer than the Brazilian Empire. The young Brazilian republic called on French architects, landscape designers and sculptors to beautify and modernize its capital. Rio’s much photographed icon, the Christ on top of the Corcovado Mountain. was partly sculpted by Paul Landowsky, a Polish born French artist (1921). The statue was built in France and brought back in sections to Rio.
The most recent and significant French undertaking is the Cidade da Musica (City of Music) a cultural complex situated in an urban sprawl known as Barra da Tijuca, west of Rio. The concrete eyesore is the creation of the famed architect Christian de Portzamparc. It was erected to host classical music concerts. The highly controversial building follows the tradition set by other French-inspired cultural projects such as the Rio opera house (built in 1909 and a copy of the Paris opera), namely that they are indecently over budgeted and shamefully behind schedule. Initially expected to be inaugurated in 2004, the Cidade da Musica, renamed Cidade da arte will now be inaugurated in 2012. The first French building of Rio, the Coligny fort of Villegagnon was built on an island. Coincidentally, the Cidade da Arte was also erected on an island, but on an uninviting island set in the middle of two major thoroughfares. Has the French cultural elite lost its panache? Not entirly thanks to monsieur Le Bron! Leblon, one of the huber chic suberb of Rio was named after him!
Beatrice Labonne, April 7, 2011.

A Latin Pearl with Seventeen Suitcases

 

On February 3, 2010, at the ripe age of 95 a lady who had been selected in 1972 as one of the “Best Dressed Women” by Vanity Fair magazine passed away in Rio de Janeiro. During the 1950s, 60s and 70s, Mrs. Perla Mattison had been the toast of New York City, Paris, Lisbon and Rio. Perla is Spanish for pearl. Her obituary was totally unnoticed by me until my friend Jackie invited me to join her to browse her vintage clothes sale. Perla had left behind seventeen suitcases of designer clothes, accessories and custom jewelry. During the last twelve years of her life, she had been the house guest of a former French diplomat. After her passing, the gentleman probably felt that the suitcases were taking too much space in his closets and decided to disperse the wardrobe and have a sale[1].

Sales as well as auctions of the personal belongings of deceased celebrities are usually exciting events. They attract a mix of nostalgic fans, bargain hunters and voyeurs eager to rummage through personal items. Perla’s fame was no match to that of Mrs. Wallis Simpson and Princess Diana, but I was nonetheless curious to see what a best-dressed, globe-trotting celebrity wore in another era.

So Jackie and I went to the “attic” sale. There were racks and racks of clothes, several drawers full of custom jewelry and scores of handbags lying on tables. We were informed that the best items, such as famous designers’ evening gowns had been given to a fashion museum in Paris and to the Zuzu Angel Fashion Institute in Rio. (There are plans to upgrade the institute into a museum sometime in the future.) Since Perla was 95 when she died, her clothes were truly vintage and mainly prêt-à-porter, the ready-to-wear type worn by the ladies-who-lunch in New York City or Paris. I didn’t find the collection very inspiring, and definitely too hot to wear in Rio. Although the wardrobe on sale spanned three decades, it was obvious that she kept her slim figure until the end of her life. On the other hand, her heap of custom jewelry could have come from Ali Baba’s cave! Jackie purchased a cuff bracelet, and I a heavy antic ivory necklace. My purchase had more to do with acquiring a piece of memorabilia than making a fashion statement.

Being the proud owner of a piece of Perla Mattison’s collection, I was keen to find out a little more about the lady. My Web search was disappointing; Google was not very informative. If La Perla, the sexy underwear brand from Italy had many entries, sadly Perla the socialite had very few; the different sources all quoted the same information. The more I searched, the less I found on Mrs. Perla Mattison. Although she knew le tout New York et le tout Paris, everybody who is anybody in these two cities, she is often listed as an international social figure often under her second husband’s name Mrs. Graham D. Mattison.

She was born Perla de Lucena. She was not Brazilian but from Uruguay, and as a young woman moved to Rio. Her first husband was named Michel Slimovic, he was a “director” at the Financial Times. Her marriage allowed her to launch an international celebrity life and build a designer wardrobe. From then on Perla’s name was associated with the European Gotha, and the Paris haute couture.

Graham D. Mattison, her second husband, was an American lawyer cum investment banker. Contrary to the first husband, the second one left a trail of entries on Google. He is mainly remembered for having been the lawyer of Poor Little Rich Girl Barbara Hutton and having made alleged dubious investments on her behalf. Other sources claim that he swindled $ 17 million from the Hutton estate. To add insult to injury, Mattison was a character in the TV miniseries “Poor Little Rich Girl: the Life of Barbara Hutton” starring David Ackroyd with Farrah Fawcett in the leading role of Barbara. She had died ten years earlier at the age 66, seven times divorced and with allegedly $ 4000 left in the bank. In the course of her short life, the Woolworth heiress had managed to squander some $50 million, probably a billion in todays’ money.

One of the highlights of Perla’s social life in Paris was her attendance in 1969 at the extravagant Oriental Ball. The ball was the tour de force of the colorful Baron Alexi de Rédé. She was ravishingly dressed as a Chinese princess. According to the media, the Baron’s ball put to shame the Sun King’s lavish fêtes at Versailles Palace. In 1972 came the highest recognition; Perla was elected the best dressed woman by the American magazine Vanity Fair. During this period, she was jet setting between Paris, New York and her mansion in Cascais in Portugal with luminaries like Oscar de la Renta, Pierre Balmain, Mrs. São Schlumberger of the oil exploration business, baroness Hélène de Rothschild, and writer Truman Capote. According to the New York Times, she also attended functions for Queen Sirikit of Thailand and shoe-obsessed Imelda Marcos of the Philippines.

In his “Conversations” interviews (1987) Capote mentioned that he admired Perla’s style and extraordinary South American chic. According to him “There is a certain kind of South American girl who is unique”. He also singled out Bianca Jagger for being another stylish Latin beauty.

According to a short New York Times obituary, Graham Mattison died in Rio in 1987 aged 81. The Google trail now gets cold. As her wardrobe indicates, Perla was no longer jet-setting and gracing Europe high society balls. It seems that her husband had left her with little money. She would occasionally travel to Paris but spent much of her time in Rio. Her wardrobe became more carioca.

For the proud owner of a Perla’s memento, my search for information was a frustrating exercise. I found more information on her Cascais house, which was pictured in Architectural Digest the decoration magazine (1982) than on her jet-setting lifestyle. Many of her high society friends like Mrs. São Schlumberger, Viscountess de Ribes, Baroness Hélène de Rothschild were the subjects of countless magazine articles; it would seem fitting for Perla to be remembered with articles by magazines like Vogue and Vanity Fair which had praised her so much for her style and grace. Otherwise her legacy will be limited to seventeen suitcases of clothes and a short sentence. She is quoted as having said in Portuguese that “To have glamour means to please without trying”[2].

Beatrice Labonne, Rio de Janeiro,

2 December, 2010

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[1] www.perlamattison.com.br

[2] Ter glamour significa agradar sem ter a intenção.

Soaking Wet On The Gold Diggers’trail

 
In Brazil, Carnivals are usually drenched; Carnival 2011 was no exception. Rain or shine, carnivals are nonetheless celebrated with equal fervor. I decided to escape the chaos of street carnival in Rio de Janeiro and fly to the colonial towns of São João del-Rei and Tiradentes located on the Old Gold Trail in Minas Gerais. The state de Minas Gerais (MG) endured non-stop rain during the four-day long holidays.
Consequently my trip started badly. The rain was so heavy over São João del-Rei that the small propeller plane couldn’t land and skipped the stop-over. It finally landed in Belo Horizonte, the capital of MG. We then drove back to São João del-Rei. With heavy traffic and a wet road, the 180 kms drive lasted four hours.
Gold was discovered at the end of the 17^th century in several rivers in a rough wilderness of forests and mountains some 300 kms as the crow flies north of Rio. Mining gave its name to the state: Minas Gerais means General Mines in Portuguese. Gold mining was a gift to Brazilian architecture; it offered Brazil some of its most charming colonial towns namely Ouro Preto, Mariana, Sabará, Congonhas, São João del-Rei and Tiradentes. The first trail to link the gold mining areas to the sea for shipment to Portugal became known as the Caminho velho, or the Old Trail. It linked the town of Ouro Preto in MG to the port of Paraty south-west of Rio de Janeiro.
Two decades later, a new and shorter trail, caminho novo was opened to reach the city of Rio de Janeiro. When diamonds were discovered in the region of Diamantina 380 kms north of Ouro Preto the new trail was extended to reach the diamond fields. The old and new trails make up the 1605 kms long Estrada Real, or Royal Highway. The trails are still partially paved.

Tiradentes, Diamantina and the small quaint port of Paraty are my favorite colonial towns. When gold and diamonds became exhausted at the beginning of the end of the 18^th century, these towns were left to their fates. They don’t quite qualify as mining ghost towns, but they were passed over by development and nearly forgotten for over hundred years. Tiradentes and Paraty are located on the old gold trail. Their long economic slumber preserved their baroque-style architecture, and the atmosphere of the quaint streets. The cities’ unspoiled colonial heritage makes them particularly attractive to tourists. During this very wet 2011 carnival, Tiradentes was drenched by rain and flooded by tourists from all over Brazil.
The easiest and more comfortable way to visit Tiradentes is to fly[1] to São João del-Rei which is 12 kms from Tiradentes. São João is a very prosperous city which weathered the gold bust by finding economic alternatives such as trade, agriculture and industry. One would think that this reconversion obliterated its colonial heritage, but this not so. The town is worth a visit; many of its remarkable cultural sites are well preserved notably in the small colonial center. The colonial 18^th century is well illustrated by five impressive baroque churches and several mansions referred to as solares in Portuguese. It also displays ornate and colorful early 20^th century Belle Epoque architecture legacy of its continuous prosperity.
The family house of São João’s famous son Tancredo de Almeida Neves is particularly attractive (left). Tancredo as he is affectionately known in Brazil was democratically elected president in 1985 after two decades of military dictatorship. Sadly, he was never officially president as he died before taking the oath of office. Across the street from Tancredo’s solar, one can visit the house of another famous member of the Neves family, that of Tancredo’s cousin Lucas Cardinal Moreira Neves. Lucas Neves was considered a serious papal contender to replace John Paul II. He was a descendant of slaves on his mother side. Unfortunately the Neveses’ brilliant prospects were defeated by their respective poor health. Don Lucas died two years before the pope he was tipped to succeed. It is not all lost for the Neves dynasty. The young, dynamic and good looking Aécio Neves, former Governor of MG and now a federal senator, could become the candidate of the opposition for the 2014 presidential election. Thanks God, Aécio seems to be in very good health!

One cannot leave São João without visiting its five splendid churches. Two are notably stunning, São Francisco de Assis, and Nossa Senhora do Pilar; known as matriz, equal to a cathedral. The later has a statue which required 12 kilos of gold, countless diamonds and emeralds.
It is too bad the rain drenched the street carnival. São João is renowned for its old fashioned parades, which are a healthy antidote to the high-tech, over-the-top samba schools parades of Rio. São João is also famous for its white rum cachaça and its pewter artifacts. Although tin is no longer mined in the region, the pewter industry survived. Mineiros, as the inhabitants of MG are known pride themselves as cachaça connoisseurs. Hundreds of brands of hand crafted cachaças can be purchased in selected stores. My favorite brand is the famed Cachaça do Beethoven. There is a very simple explanation to this incongruous name; it is the name of its owner. Beethoven da Silva or Beethoven Sousa Perreira, who knows?
The most exotic means of transportation between São João and Tiradentes is with the famous Maria Fumaça, or Smoky Mary, the grand old dame of steam locomotives. The one which I took was built in the United States of America in 1912. The 12 kms ride takes about 35 minutes; Maria Fumaça leisurely slithers through the suburbs of São João del-Rei; there are no railway crossing barriers, and the whistle warms car drivers of the incoming train. It is such a beloved attraction that even local people wave at Maria’s passage.
The train rides alongside the Rio das Mortes, or River of the Dead. The river owes its creepy name to the deadly battles between the rag tag explorers and gold diggers from São Paulo, called the bandeirantes, and the Portuguese gold prospectors. Gold had been discovered by the former in 1702. The town of Tiradentes owes its name to Joaquim José da Silva Xavier who was born in the vicinity. Tiradentes (pull teeth in Portuguese) was his nick-name as he occasionally practiced as a dentist. Tiradentes became a republican hero for having, at the time of the French revolution, raised a small army of followers against the Portuguese colonial government. He was hanged in Rio in 1792.

Even during its gold digging heydays in the 1700s, Tiradentes never compared with elegant towns like São João del-Rei or Ouro Preto. It has retained its charming rustic feel; its streets are still paved with big uneven stone slabs known as pé-de-moleque in Portuguese, because only bare foot street urchins could manage this rough pavement. Its main church, Santo Antonio, has an unassuming façade. However half a ton of gold was used to cover the rococo engravings and carving of its nave. The choir displays a beautiful Portuguese organ dating from 1779, and which is still working.
My favorite church is Nossa Senhora do Rosario dos Pretos which, legend has it was built at night by slaves using gold dust smuggled under their finger nails. The church is modest in size but displays a beautifully painted ceiling. At the time of the gold rush the Africans, slaves or free men, made up 70 percent of the population of the settlement.
Now Tiradentes is going through a second golden age, that of tourism. The main attractions of Tiradentes are music and religious festivals, handicrafts, boutique hotels, gastronomy and eco-tourism. The village has become a large craft emporium selling folk art, textiles and furniture made out of salvaged wood in the neighboring village of Bichinho. During this carnival, hordes of tourists, their dripping umbrellas in one hand and wallet in the other, were busy raiding the many small shops in search of the perfect souvenir. Restaurants seem to be opened 24 hours a day! Since my last visit three years ago, many have now become “kilo” restaurants, selling food by weight. “Kilo” is the Brazilian response to buffet meals.

Tiradente should be avoided during tourism hustle bustle times such as carnival and Holy Week when Cariocas, the inhabitants of Rio; Paulistas those of São Paulo; and Mineiros mainly from Belo Horizonte descend on the city. Tiradente is best enjoyed when empty, the way it was when it went into oblivion, isolated from the aggression of economic development.
The sun came out the day of my departure. The plane landed safely in SJ del-Rei and we took off for Rio, a thirty minute flight.
Beatrice Labonne, Rio de Janeiro, March 13, 2011.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1GQ3uELxSoI

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[1] TRIP airline flies from Rio de Janeiro’s Santos Dumond airport.

Oscar & I

"I think that God in creating Man somewhat overestimated his hability".                  
Oscar Wilde.

The “Vampirish” Black Swan of Darren Aronofsky

 
There is so much media buzz about Black Swan the film of Director Darren Aronofsky that movies goers want to see the film for themselves.  According to the many film critics who reviewed Black Swan, the film is either brilliant or utterly manipulative and shameless. My curiosity got the best of me. I reluctantly went to see the film, à reculons as the French say, walking backwards. I was not sure that I will like it in spite of the positive comments made by a lady friend.
The beginning of the film was not auspicious. All the main characters, Nina (Natalie Portman) the fragile and infantile ballet dancer, her mother, and the maître de ballet were all mean characters, as well as caricatures of their trade. Erica, the mother embodied the Mommy Dearest stereotype, without the flourish of Joan Crawford, the all-time queen of mean. I also found Lily, Nina’s nemesis totally miscast. I am not a ballet expert but this girl has neither the body nor the posture of a ballerina. She exhibited a big eagle tattoo on her back. Was I watching the Guardian Angels’ version of Swan Lake?
Oronofsky’s Black Swan
Natalie Portman’s dancing looked fine, but she is no first ballerina material. In order to compensate for her lack of ballet skills, her training focused on her arms and upper body. The leg and foot work which was seen on the screen was that of a true ballet dancer. Although I admire Portman’s talent as an actress, I could not take her ballet part seriously.
I understand why the film struck such a raw nerve in the ballet community. At one stage I felt like leaving, but as I was seating in the middle of a row I was “prisoner”. I tried to concentrate on the plot, part thriller and part horror.  Nina is both destroying and reinventing herself in her search for emancipation and perfection. I often closed my eyes to enjoy the haunting music of Tchaikovsky which was mixed with electronic elements to a very dramatic effect. Sorry to admit but I giggled at the last scene when blood gushed out of the white swans’ stomach. Vampirish.
The bottom line is that I was certainly brainwashed by the negative reviews. After seeing the film, I read a couple of positive reviews which I didn’t find very convincing. I found the film entertaining but goofy and far-fetched. It is loaded with standard clichés of melodrama. Nathalie Portman’s performance is mesmerizing, bona fide Oscar material. The masturbation scene and the lesbian sex episode were risqué elements in an otherwise campy Hollywood fare. I look forwards to your comments (any languages) and argument. Select the “Anonymous” profile to do so.

IT obsessed,

To my mentors, Caryl, Peter and Luis Alfredo,
Writing is a hobby which I kept on the back burner when I was employed.  Then I wrote reports, chapters in books, keynote addresses, etc.… As soon as I retired from the United Nations I started scribbling stories, irreverent anecdotes and travelogues.  Brazil and the south of France titillated my inspiration.   Peter invited me to post my articles on his website http://www.the-languedoc-page.com/.  He gave me web exposure.  I never worried whether my articles generated hit traffic!  Peter never cared either, he would upload them no question asked.  I was one of his literary guests.
English is not my mother tongue but I relish the additional challenge and rewards of writing in this acquired language.  French, my native language is not a language for beginners.  It has strict rules and complex codes and doesn’t come to me easily any more.  Moreover, I can’t compete with my articulate French friends who eloquently write about their activities and tend to dismiss everything outside their self-defined norms.  One of my friends has even released a real book sold on Amazon.com.  To write in English is a safer way for me.  It is the lingua franca of my globalized playground.  Last but not least most of my French speaking friends read English, mine in particular.
My New York friend Caryl played a central role in facilitating my literary pursuits.  During all these years, she has been my patient and considerate editor.   A brilliant “track change” wizard, she helped me polish my rough sentences to ensure that they made sense to English-speaking readers.   Caryl may lament that in spite of her steady editing, I still haven’t fully mastered the art of English punctuation.
Finally, my buddy Luis Alfredo, who shared with me an earlier addiction to minerals stimulated my interest in one-way blogging.  He recently launched a blog celebrating luminaries like Keats and Proust.  Ex-geologist and present day “bon vivant”, Luis Alfredo gave me my boarding card to the blogosphere.
Three wonderful friends to whom I owe a mega byte debt of gratitude.
IT: Information Technology.