Olga Meunière

This is Olga Meunière from Ostende, Western Flanders, Belgium as I met her munching a sandwich on Corso del Orso in Florence, the other day. She is the sweetest kid you ever want to meet, great sense of humor and a bright sunny disposition. Olga has three passions: travel and food and food. She lived in many places in Europe and cooked and eat her way through lots of diverse cuisines,  a regular Anthony Bourdain female clone if you wish (of whom Olga is the greatest fan). She is a great eater ... and I mean great, persistent, continuous and passionate ... rarely you see her without food in her hand or close by. Once, she went to the Universita di Pavia, Medical Centre to take part in a study of who eats and does not get fat ... the doctors were puzzled and could not explain the quantity of food she would eat without gaining one gram. The best time of her life was when she lived in Paris and met Vincent, a tall, dark, handsome American who lived on a diet of milkshakes and cheeseburgers (which he insisted to call "Royale with Cheese"). He became her boyfriend and they were very happy until, one day, Vincent got a phone call from California, packed up and left the next day. Olga never heard from him again and never had another burger (cheese or not) ever.  

Xenia Yakovleva Zaharova

This is Xenia Yakovleva Zaharova as I met her recently in the GAM in Milan and there are two reasons this is the only picture she agreed to - first: she believes her nose is too big for her face (it is not); the second reason will reveal itself as you read on. Xenia is an anthropologist and one of the world's foremost researchers of all things cultural, she lives in Nürenberg with her two cats and her brother Serghey. She is highly intelligent, devastatingly quick and utterly thorough: she will find all facts and present them totally unbiased. Now: Milan and Viena have a rivalry going back many years which resulted (sometimes) in statues of Generals in public squares and cemeteries filled with dead young men and, at other times, just heated verbal claims and disputes. Many of these have been settled: best Operahouse (Milan), best Symphonic Orchestra (Viena), best coffee (Milan), best pastry shops (Viena) but one item is still debated: where was it first that they deep fried breaded slices of veal called Wienerschnitzel (Viena) and Cotoletta Alla Milanese (Milan)? This is what Xenia was determined to determine (she is a vegetarian, so her interest in the subject was purely academic), it took about a year and a half and trips to Viena, Milan, Paris, and Budapest (where she found the final clue in a letter, dated August 21st, 1832, from Grof Janos to his cousin about a dinner with his friend Karl-Heinz von Gumpelholtz). Xenia's monograph was recently published by "Flyehans et Fils" in Geneva, in a beautifully illustrated bilingual edition and now she, as they say, "can not have lunch" in Milan anymore. 

Ayako Watanabe

This is Ayako Watanabe (38) of Ōtsu, Shiga Prefecture, Japan as I met her at the "Velvet Lounge Bar" on Via Stelvio, in Monza (almost a suburb of Milan). She was very happy and so totally proud for she was celebrating her second cover on the Japan Yogini Journal, the only person under forty to have had two covers. Ayako ordered a "Tequila e Red Bull" with a twist of line and a twig of Rosemary and I got myself a dram of Gray Goose. We talked about Yoga and life ... by the time I had four (Gray Goose) she'd had six ("Tequila e Red Bull") and had to excuse herself as being "Oh, so tired, oh so suddenly". The next picture is at breakfast the next morning ... Ayako had a terrible headache but she also had the absolute cure for it: her own Asana of her own invention: sitting in full Lotus, right-hand massage top of head pressure point (Bai Hui), left-hand in Karana Mudra. Her, it helped ... me, not so much! 

Lila Ma Uvelian

This is Lila (Ma) Uvelian in her pop-up store on Isola Madre, on Lago Maggiore ... she called it Lavanda Del Lago (wouldn't put it past clever Lila, to have made a play on "Lady of the Lake").  It is a souvenir store with a theme ... Lavender-Violet ... color-wise. It smells violet, it looks violet and it tastes violet too. Lila is an exceptionally pleasant young girl with a sweet voice, sunny disposition and great people skills. She runs the store more to meet people and talk, to exchange ideas and impressions about life and the universe rather than for commercial profit ... she does alright though. For a while, I couldn't figure why she stayed so deep in her, relatively dark, store until she stepped out into the light and I saw (more ... felt) the color of her hair. My head started spinnig, my throat choked and I floated into the air upside down seeing things down-side-up snapping mouthfuls of air as if most deliciously high ... couldn't decide if this was pleasant or not but I knew two things: it was dizzily nauseating and I did not want it to stop. After a while, I came to and went to take the boat to Stresa, but kept craning my neck looking back.      

Aurică (Aureliu) Agavriloaiei

This is Aureliu (Aurică) Agavriloaiei also known as Rică or Ricu or Rico sitting on his favorite bench in the Giardino Publico in Milan the other day. He lives with his wife Ludmila, very frugally,  in a small apartment, they bought close by, on via Carlo Teneca. You wouldn't be able to tell from looking, but Rico has great wealth, an unbelievable memory for numbers and a very volatile and violent temper. He is the principal of the largest scalper network in Milan - they resell hundreds of thousands of tickets a year for, mainly, la Scala, AC Milan and Inter for hundreds of thousands of Euro in profits.  Ludmila runs a group of Russian hackers who write bots to buy up tickets at face-value and Rico runs the distribution: street vendors. The couple has two kids: Enrico (28) who owns two Auto Repair shops and Profira (30) who owns three Fitness Clubs. All family enterprises are very successful because they launder money for Rico, ship containers of hot Audis and BMWs to Uzbekistan and Azerbaijan and sell illegal steroids on the side. Both Enrico and Profira drive high-end Mercedes-Benz cars and live in luxury villas just outside Milan. All-in-all this is one European Union family success story. Rico plans to retire and return to his native Târgu-Neamț to spend his time hunting and fishing.

Yagella, Yagella, Pawòl and Pawòl

These are Yagella (29), Yagella jr. (6), Pawòl (28) and Pawòl jr. (5) from Wrocław, Poland but they live in Alicante, Spain. They drove to Milan for a week's vacation to their Airbnb, in a nice old building just off Piazza di Risorgimento. When you look closer at the Piazza del Duomo, you can see Yagella, she is the tall handsome girl next to Pawòl, the big, athletic guy in the blue t-shirt, in front of them, their two kids. The idea to come in such summer heat to a super-touristic city with two small kids was the worst they had: the kids are, in turn, bored or hyperactive, always want something and when they don't get it, they act up. The idea to come in such summer heat to a super-touristic city with two small kids was the best they had: the kids happy, they hug a lot, laugh a lot, take lots of selfies and pictures and have a great time. You couldn't help noticing a slight contradiction between the two previous sentences, and said WTF, right? The explanation is simpler than you think - it has to do with the sun and the moon and the stars and the way the Universe is put together, but also with the frequency and quantity of PIZZA that you are getting 😃. 

Giuseppe Costanza III

This is Giuseppe Costanza III, in Florence sitting and sketching the Duomo. His grandfather, Giuseppe I, came back in 1961 from Russia, where he was held as a war prisoner. He had great knowledge of Russian language and literature, a missing left leg, and an old icon, about 60 by 80 cm showing an old frowny Saint with a white beard. The missing leg made the Italian government give Giuseppe I a decoration, a pension and a license to sell tobacco, it also allowed Giuseppe I imaginative sexual positions. The icon went on the wall behind the counter of the new Tabacheria on via dei Fatebenefratelli, Milan. Giuseppe I, who prospered also due to the sale of smuggled cigarettes, had a son, Giuseppe II who, in time, took over the store. A guy who worked around the corner on via Brera and bought his Chesterfields at Giuseppe's several times a week, asked one day, about four and a half years ago, if he could take a picture of the icon on the wall, next to the Tabacco License and the first 100 Lire note that Giuseppe I earned. Next day the guy came back and asked Giuseppe II if he knew Andrei Rublev. Giuseppe II said that his dad may have known him in Russia all those years back. There was laughter, the guy said that the Rublev he is talking about died almost six hundred years ago. There was even more laughter when the old frowny Saint with the white beard went into Sotheby's fall catalog and, later, sold at double the estimate (four and a half Million Euro). Giuseppe III, who doesn't want anything to do with selling cigarettes, has now the money to travel around Italy and sketch churches. Giuseppe III makes horrible sketches.

Felix (Fra Bertoldi) Cantiriani

This is Fra Bertoldi as I met him at the ancient church of Santa Maria Delle Grazie. He lived for 28 years as Felix Cantiriani, a quiet, bookish slightly religious young man with obsessions and fears (mostly of fear itself) on via Melloni, in a small apartment on the fourth floor of a five-floor building. His door had two locks and two deadbolts that could only be worked from inside, the windows had solid iron bars. Felix always made sure he took the elevator alone or only with neighbours he knew and, once at home, he shut both locks leaving the keys in and pushed the deadbolts in place. One late night, about four and a half years ago, Felix woke up and only half opened his eyes, his bedroom was cold, there was a faint smell that he could not identify. In the corner he could see a tall dark shape, like a man with a hood. He quickly closed his eyes again and pretended to be asleep but still peeked. The shape moved closer, he felt the air move and heard a deep voice, more like a grunt, saying "I am dangerous". Felix shut his eyes tight and lay there for a long time prepared to die. The dawn broke and nothing further happened. He got up and checked the apartment, windows: locked, door: locked! He was even more terrified now than he was when it happened, in the night - he knew it had not been a dream. He got dressed and ran to see Padre Paolo. The father heard him out, was silent for a long time and then told Felix to go pray and come back the next day. Not many of his friends and relatives were surprised when Felix became a novice for the "White-Robed Monk of St. Benedict" and was ordained a year and a half later as Fra Bertoldi. Now he gets up at the 3:10 wake-up bell and has a small cup of coffee followed by prayers followed by more readings and prayers and cleaning and cooking and his general purpose in life is to let the world be a more compassionate place, inviting peace and joy. He sleeps well. 

Mina, Rina and Tina

These are Mina (9) and Rina (7), their mother Tina (38), was so upset that it was impossible to take her picture; her younger sister, Simona (Sysy, 36) was getting married today to Stefano (Fyfy, 37) at the ancient church of Santa Prassede, Rome where we all were waiting for the last 48 minutes. What is known is that Sysy and Fyfy decided against tradition and planned to come to church together. What is not known is that while dressing, Fyfy holding one cufflink, asked Sysy if she knew where his other cufflink is, Sysy said that it is called your cufflink because you should know where it is; Fyfy said he did not ask for attitude, Sysy gave him more attitude and Fyfy, angrily, threw the one cufflink against the wall, it fell on the floor (the cufflink, not the wall) and rolled under the sofa. Sysy ran into the bedroom and banged the door shut. Twenty minutes later, Sysy opened the door to give Fyfy some more attitude and found Fyfy on his knees crying, so Sysy went down on her knees too and they kissed after which, being on their knees anyway, they scuttled to the sofa to look for the one cufflink. They found two cufflinks next to each other cozy and happy, as cozy and happy as inanimate objects can be. They finished dressing quickly and got a cab to be only 64 minutes late ... all frowns and raised eyebrows and knowing nods vanished, Mina and Rina threw petals most expertly and Tina smiled again. The cufflinks also smiled (as inanimate objects can, sometimes, smile too). 

Gianni and Tomasso Barbaini

These are the Barbaini brothers as I met them in the Galeria Vittorio Emanuelle the other day. Their surname comes from their forefather, a Greek ship Captain called Barba Iani, who sailed to Genova, Italy in the mid-thirties and stayed because his ship was confiscated by the Mussolini fascists. Their fortune also comes from the Captain who had great skills in cooking fish and started an extremely successful restaurant in a suburb of Milan. The restaurant is still doing very well to this day and the brothers prosper mostly due to the special sauce they serve with their fried fish, nobody can make the sauce like them (the secret ingredient is nutmeg). After they studied the diner's traffic carefully, they noted that the lowest day occupancy is on Wednesdays, so that is when they keep the restaurant closed and everybody takes their day off. Gianni and Tomasso Barbaini relax by dressing in women's clothes, go shopping and hang around in bars. They have great success at it.

Vanja (Five-Strings) V

This is Vanessa (Vanja) Heinz from Boston, MA, a busker in Milan, at the Duomo, where we met. You look closer and see that she plays an Ibanez SR505 5-String Electric Bass, which is definitely, not her first choice instrument as she struggles to keep up with the stupid drum machine. Vanessa actually plays the harp (42 strings more) but she was left high and dry by her bass-playing boyfriend, who took her to Milan and then, one night, disappeared without a trace. She shrugged it off, picked up the abandoned guitar and figured: Kismet, "V" as in Vanja and the Roman numeral ... you gets the gig, you plays the gig. It is enough money to pay the rent and buy groceries until Jimmie finds his way home ... Vanja was always a great one to roll with the punches. Passers-by threw her  few Euro coins as she got her fingering straight and plunged into a soulful rendition of Gaėtano Bottesini's Andante sostenuto, she brought down the house! 

Yuri Herzberger

This is Yuri Herzberger (he prefers Uri) from Victoria B.C. in Canada, he was born on April 12th, 1961, and his parents, in a bout of naive and misguided leftist enthusiasm, called him Yuri (Yuri Gagarin of the Soviet Union flew in space that day). Uri's life (most of it, anyway) was a long string of humiliations; the first he clearly remembers was in the backyard of his first love: Florence Smith (they were both about five). Uri brought a drawing of a table he made for her in blue crayon but her older brother took it and rubbed it on his bottom laughing. That is how it all went, at school, University and later at work ... when he was invited to parties he felt humiliated, thinking it was for pity when he wasn't invited he felt humiliated for being left out. He had a string of meaningless affairs where he thought the girls went with him for mercy and he felt humiliated, but when girls rejected him he also felt humiliated. His Uriah Heep humiliations were more the pop-group type then the Dickensian sycophant version ... but still, hurt like crazy. Then, one day, about six and a half years ago, his then-girlfriend Aby-Gail took him on a free-friend-class-pass to her Yoga studio down Douglas street. What he experienced next, he could not describe, he tried to keep up with the class and thought he didn't but, when about an hour and a half later, he lay still in, what he was told is, the final Savasana, he realized that for the first time for as long as he could remember he was fine: no feelings of guilt or shame. There was no pressure, no expectation, no judgment ... just warm smiles and encouragement. Uri lives with his now-fiancee Aby-Gail and they go to daily Yoga sessions. Full of eternal gratitude, he bought her a tat of her choice and, when we met in Rome a few weeks ago, they were both seriously considering teacher training. Uri still listens to his Uriah Heep records, his favorite is "Easy Living" from "Demons and Wizards".

Kimmie Zhou 周

This is Zhou (周) Keung, a beer drinker from the Tianjin Province, Ninghe District, he lives with his mom in a small place just outside Lutai. One night, about two and a half years ago, while drinking beer on his porch, he heard sounds of breaking, screeching, impacting, and crashing. He jumped up and ran to the highway where he saw a huge white BMW rolled on its side with wheels still spinning. The driver was fine he had only some scratches, the passenger, a young woman hanging in the seat belt, was clearly dead. The young man asked him for his name and then ordered Keung to help him move the girl into the driver seat and the roll the car down into the gorge below. The BMW bumped faster and faster through the bushes and landed, almost invisible, two hundred feet below. Then the young man told Keung to take him to the train station which he did on his old scooter. Once there, the guy took out all the cash from his wallet and gave it to Keung with a business card, he said somebody will come by (it was almost 5,000 Yuan, about six hundred bucks). After a few days a lawyer came by, asked for a bank account number and Keung signed a consulting contract with the Province. The next day there were 150,000 Yuan more in the bank, so he bought a new stove for his mom and paid a guy to repair the roof. In a newspaper, Keung read about a female car thief who crashed a car and died (the car belonged, apparently, to the son of a high party boss). Keung changed his name to cooler Kimmie, quit his job and sat at home drinking beer all day. After a while, he started to travel and to drink beer all over the world. I met him in Florence on the steps of Santa Croce (we had beers).

Louis Charles

This is Louis Charles from Dijon, France, he comes from a long line of Moutardier, with his lineage made noble when a Hungarian count, Zsigmond Nagy von Zichy arrived in the city and charmed Marie Louise, only daughter of the prosperous Charles family, with his fine figure and elegant, Viennese manners. Little did she and les Charles know, that Zsigmond fled his creditors who held papers on an enormous gambling debt. The wedding was a most splendid affair and the couple settled down in the manor house on the estate that grew the mustard that grew the Charles wealth. A boy, named Joel Kálmán, was the fruit of their love, alas born after the Count's disappearance (one evening he went for cigarettes and was never seen or heard off again). There was a huge break in Marie Louise's heart 💔and a majestic hole in their bank account. Joel Kálmán is the grandfather of Louis and it was in his time that the lands had to be sold. The family held great know-how on the mustard industry and prospered again by becoming main agents in selling and buying it. Louis is famous for winning the prestigious "Grand Prix de Meilleure Dijon" nine times running: he makes really good mustard (his secret ingredient is nutmeg), but the first year he bribed the judges with thousand Euro each, subsequent years, he just played them the recording of that transaction on his phone. So the spirit of Count Zsigmond is still alive and well in Dijon, capital of Burgundy, France, where le Dijon (AOC) is now made with 80% mustard seed from Ontario in Canada.

Peter, Paula and Mitch

These are Paula and Peter from London, England as I met them the other day in the Galleria Vittorio Emmanuelle in Milan. Mitch is not in the picture because he is dead. The three met on their first day of University and became best friends quickly. Their friendship was so solid and profound that it withstood the traumatic event of Paula hooking up with Mitch leaving Peter in constant, deep and torturing pain. They rented a flat together and worked hard to graduate and find good jobs in the City after which, still together, shared a luxury highrise apartment. One late night, about a year and a half ago, during a silly argument, Paula pushed Mitch from the balcony, he fell down 24 floors and met the pavement (and his death). Peter, who, it so happens, got himself a new phone just the day before, filmed the entire incident. When the police and ambulance arrived, Paula and Peter stated that Mitch was a well-known somnambulist and it was all an accident. It was gone seven by the time police left and when Paula checked Peter's phone, she realized that the clip was saved in several hidden locations. Peter went to his room to find Paula naked in his bed. It is not known how happy the relationship is, what is known is that Peter invested all of his emotional capital to make it work, Paula's contribution is, occasionally, her vagina.

Isobel Kunst

This is Isobel Kunst as I met her on the train to Domodossola in Verbano, Piedmont. Sweet kid if there ever was one ... years ago her parents went through a bitter divorce and her mom, Sylvia Kunst, was granted sole custody. Her American father, Jim Sloe, kidnapped her and fled to Panama where they lived for seven years, her dad assuming, and Isobel letting him believe, that she forgot all about Sylvia and Itlay. When they took a trip to San Diego, Isobel, then 14, ran into a police station. She was returned to her mom, went to high school in Italy and captained her field hockey team to the Piedmont-Lombardia championship.  A few years ago she started her Yoga studio - great success - first Hatha, then Vinyasa and Bikram. Since then property crime rate went down 82%, violent crime is non-existent, the birth-rate is 18% higher than the national average, people walk or bike anywhere, they smile a lot and nobody has had dandruff in years. Isobel has a pet turtle called Joe Clyde.

Rosalba von Touche

This is Rosalba von Touche as I met her at "Enrico Rizzi" on via Correnti in Milan - she is the most delightful girl who you'd want to handle your gelato, her smile melts hearts and her hands are most beautifully shaped. Rosalba plays classical guitar, writes poetry and is a cracking tennis player (none of which translates, currently, to income) which made her mother advise her to marry somebody rich. Rosalba always listens to her mother's guiding pearls of wisdom and always ignores them. Her favorite composer is Manuel de Falla, her favorite dish is a vegetable curry, her favorite author is Jasper Fforde (she first read "Il Caso Jane Eyre" when it was translated in 2006 into Italian and then, quickly, everything else she found ... she was particularly happy that there was an Italian Translation Inspectorate that makes field trips). Rosalba does not know yet, but in a few months (Mid-November, to be precise) a life-changing event will occur, that will forever change her life forever.

Ariadne MacIvor-Fabrizzi

This is Ariadne MacIvor-Fabrizzi as I met her in front of the Palazzo dell'Arte Della Lana, in Florence, a while ago. She's just been with her advisor (seen there sitting, smoking), at the "Società Dantesca", to discuss her Korean translation of some Petrarca Sonnets. Ariadne's mother, Anne MacIvor, came to Florence, met, fell in love, moved in with and got pregnant by Fabio Fabrizzi in the early nineties. When they learned they'll have a baby, they decided to get married and had one of their (0nly) two catastrophic fights: Anne wanted her family name preserved, hyphenated to Fabio's, Fabio (macho Italian) didn't want to hear of it. Anne went and registered Ariadne hyphenated anyway (they had their second huge fight, of which,  subsequently, Anne got on a plane back to  Glasgow never to return). Fabio raised Ariadne who turned out very well, with an uncanny talent for languages: she learned to be fluent in Spanish, Korean and in Swahili in just two years during University. We had coffee and she talked about her plans and dreams. Short-term plans had to do mostly with food, short-term dreams had to do mostly with naked men with large penises. We never got to the long-term plans and dreams.

  

Gina Fanamedeo

This is Geena Fanamedeo of Florence, Benton County, Iowa. She studies Flute and Composition at the local conservatory. She was born and lived, until about nine years ago, in Kaesong, North Korea under the name Doy-Pham Kim. Her best friend and classmate, Than Euh-Kyung, lived next door and the fathers of the two girls, both widowed, were also best friends spending most of their free time smoking and talking in quiet voices in the back of the garden. On that fateful night of November 10th, 2009, at about three AM, her father woke her up and told her to dress, he did not switch on the light. A light backpack was ready for her with a change of clothes and a small wooden box that her father said to be opened only "when needed, you'll know when!". Outside, in the bitter cold, stood Euh-Kyung with her father and they started walking quickly and quietly towards the woods and the near border. Suddenly there was shouting, shooting, and blinding floodlights. Kim felt her hand yanked, running as fast as she could, falling, getting up and running again. Suddenly it was dark and quiet again until she heard voices, a mix of Korean and (what she thought was) English: somebody pulled them into a warm hut. Her friend's father still clutched her hand, tears in his eyes, kept repeating: "My daughter, my daughter". They made it to the U.S. as father and daughter and given new names. Her final exam piece, a concerto for flute, harp and chamber orchestra is called "The Border" and is dedicated to "Father and Euh-Kyung". Geena never opened the little wooden box.

Lidia Bellotini

This is Lidia Bellotini (née Piacentini), she is on her annual visit from Poggibonsi to pray to San'Agata di Caesarea in the church on via San Gallo. The prayer-subject for the last nine years is well-known: it is the anniversary of the disappearance of her husband Gian-Basilio on July 12th 2009. What is not known is that Lidia prays for her soul and continuing protection and Lidia's role in the mysterious vanishing of said husband: she stabbed him in the throat and buried his body in the garden that night when he came home drunk again and hit her again and said he cheated on her again. She told people he went out that night and never came home again. Everybody felt sorry for her, being abandoned, but many thought she is better off without that no-good drunk. Lidia prayed daily at St. Lucchese for the "safe return" of her husband (she felt that lying in her prayer to God is less sin than taking a life and He knows and He guided her to do it anyway). Later she learned that San'Agata is the patron saint of secret killers, that is when the yearly trips began. Lidia lives alone with her old dog Variany (only witness to the "bloody deed" who didn't like Sgr. Bellotini either because he kicked him and who wouldn't say anything to anybody anyway). 

Ilaria

This is ⭐Ilaria⭐(you notice, there is no last name because she is a star). A while ago painters (mostly Italian) had nick-names: Michelangelo Merisi was called Caravaggio, Pietro Vannucci was called Perugino, etc. Later, football players (mostly Brazilian) had nick-names Edson do Nascimento was called Pelé, Ricardo Izecson dos Santos Leite was called Kaká, etc. But now the "baristas" who make our daily coffee are the stars and we, while in Florence, by the river, at the Verazzano, had many a "caffè"  made by Ilaria ... and they were all exceptional!  She is as a delightful girl as you'll ever meet ... rarely fits a name a personality as hers does. Ilaria dreams to, one day, go see the Verazzano Bridge (N.Y., N.Y.) and open a school, teach kids how to brew a real cup of coffee. Once in New York, she will NOT change her name to Hillary (Ilaria in Inglese)

Gitta Gillan

This is Dr. Gitta Gillan from Guildford, Surrey, she teaches the Science of Colours and Hues at the University of Surrey (formerly the "Battersea Polytechnic Institute"). I met Gitta on a bench, in Piazza Santa Croce, one Sunday afternoon when " ... the sun pours down like honey on our Lady of the Harbour ... "  she was frantically looking for something. Extremely bright and one of the foremost experts in her field (briefly an assistant to Dr. Khandekar, at Harvard) Gitta is well-advanced in her current project to prove that canaries (Serinus Canaria) when fed a mixture of enough seeds of Passiflora Edulis, beer, and eggshells, will eventually turn mauve! Once her work is published, the colour-world will be turned upside-down. Her biggest problem in life is that she constantly loses stuff (her phone four times last year, wallet, keys, you name it Gitta forgot where she put it). The one thing she clearly remembers losing was her virginity (at fourteen, in the back of her father's vintage 1966 Studebaker).

Paul Chelon

This is Paul X. Chelon from Funchal, Madeira of Portugal as I met him at the Loggia dei Lanzi, the other day. Paul is the sweetest, nicest guy you ever want to meet: clever and witty. He runs a very successful orthotics business (the only one on the island) and is related to the late Herberto Hélder (his mother was Herberto's first cousin) ... so of course, we talked about modern poetry and such. The conversation was extremely pleasant but I couldn't help noticing a tension of some kind and Paul frequently shifting his weight from one side to the other. Turns out he suffers from hemorrhoids and, that day, went through a particularly bad flare-up. When I mentioned the large number of Pharmacies in Florence, he smiled weakly and said that he travels with is own  (mostly useless) collection of potions, unguents, and tinctures. I wished him good luck and went down towards the river.

Vera Wang

This is Vera Kimwang-Olaussen from Balestand, Sognefjorden in Norway who teaches Geography, Geology, and Geometry at the "Sygna Vgs" high school where everybody adores her. She is totally fluent in Norwegian, it is the heavy Korean/Portuguese accent is what makes her adorable. All was cool along the fjords, she told me when I met her at the church of Santa Croce in Florence, until that fateful evening of August 2oth four years ago when Vera, while jogging, happened upon four hugely muscular and very drunk boys from Oslo harassing a girl from her school. She told them to stop and go away ... you can imagine what effect that had! What followed is, to this day, spoken off only in whispers and called "Den Tingen": in less than two minutes all four boys lay wriggling and howling on the ground with an aggregate of nine bone fractures, three complex sprains, and two severe concussions: unbeknownst to all, Vera was a Hapkido master who lived and trained with Kim-Yun Sik, in Brasil (they had to call in supplies from the neighboring hospital in Fresvik for the treatment). The "Vera Adoration Factor" in Balestrand went through the roof, she got three marriage proposals and everybody wanted Korean Martial Arts on the high school curriculum. Vera is still single and lives with her two cats (Kim and Chi) in a small cottage on the Sognefjord.

Fiela Lomba-Linhares do Fosco

This is Fiela (Fielita) Lomba-Linhares do Fosco from Coroado, Manaus, Brazil. She lives on R. Treze de Maio, just a two-minute walk to her church. I met her in Fiesole on the way to the enchanted fourteenth century "Convento di San Francesco" where Fielita wanted to see a sculpture made by Margot Einstein (Albert Einstein's daughter).  It broke my heart to tell her (she would have cursed me if her Seventh Day Adventist fate wouldn't forbid cursing) that Margot was an adopted daughter. Wait, it gets worse: (I just cannot keep my stupid mouth shut) told her that Albert married Elsa (Margot's mother) who was his first cousin (their mothers were sisters) on top of which Albert's and Elsa's fathers were first cousins themselves, a genealogical nightmare for second marriage each. It was an icy cold "Obrigada" I got on that very hot day as Fielita marched down the hill mumbling to herself.

Circe (Margot) Petrić

This is Circe Petrić, she prefers Margot because she is tired of explaining to people who Circe was. Her last name comes from a cousin of her late father's who adopted her when she was seventeen and a half. Margot is sad ... deeply, permanently and constantly. There is no reason for her to be sad: good job, a nice boyfriend, and her father-uncle-cousin who gives her frequently money and valuable gifts ... doctors said that Margot likely has the SAD-gene and there is no real cure but she should two eat potatoes at four-twenty in the afternoon and burn Sage in her bedroom before going to sleep (this made her sad). Margot's most valuable possession is a button that once was on Leonard Cohen's Famous Blue Raincoat. 

Holger Helgoland

This is Holger Helgoland and his wife Kwee - his name was Hwan Hee until he changed it when he became a US citizen in 1989. He is a very talented and hardworking structural engineer who made Partner in his company until that fateful day of  April 12th, three years ago, when his assistant, her name was Billie-Joe Mcallister, came to work in a shorter than usual skirt and a tighter than usual top - Holger became so distracted that he used the wrong formula in calculations for the Tallahassee-Tallahatchie bridge. Bref: the bridge collapsed three days after opening, the insurance company paid out millions and Holger lost his job. Kwee knows the edited version: they made him the scapegoat because he was the only Chinese on the team, she now spends her inheritance taking them on a trip around the world. Holger still, sometimes, dreams of Billie-Joe and her thighs.

Kiki and Fifi

I wrote another short play taken from the daily life of our prisoners.

Dramatis personæ:

Kiki .................. A Fair Foreign Traveling Maiden,
Fifi ..................  A Young Florentine Merchant
Scene - Via Calzaiuolo one summer early evening

Fifi (smiling): "Aren't you Elsie's sister who lives on the hill and has a cat called Bill?"
Kiki (also smiling): "You made a mistake, it is a dog called Pogue"
Fifi (with his silkiest, smoothest baritone): "I make many mistakes"
Kiki (giggling, playing with her locks): "You think?"
Fifi (laughing, looking like the Jack of Hearts): "Wanna get some ice cream?"
Kiki (giggling, batting eyelids with high frequency): "Ice cream's good!"

Exeunt towards Via dei Tavolini 

Fabiana Vanzetti

This is Fabiana Vanzetti, she was the only girl in her class who graduated high school, in Bologna, a virgin. Due to her violent temper and radical political opinions, her yearbook entry lists her as "most likely to die young, go to jail or a combination of both". After graduating University with a Masters in Literature, she went to Kabul for research from which resulted in a novel about a young orphan girl who is savagely beaten and raped by five neighborhood boys. She survives the violence to invent a soft drink made from acacia flowers which makes her a millionaire and uses her newfound wealth to hire an assassin to track down and kill her tormentors. The book won the Davanzati "Novel of the Year" at the Milan International Bookfair and, because Fabiana's wardrobe consisted only of a couple of jeans and a dozen t-shirts, the organizers rented her an evening gown. It was light-blue, ill-fitting and somebody spilled red wine on it at the "After Gala" party; they had to throw it away. Fabiana is still a virgin to this day, at 42 and a half. 

Nakashima Sisters

These are Suki and Endi Nakashima, from Houston, Tx. I met them on Ponte Alla Carraia one sunny day. They are extremely close in all they do, think and say, not so much in wardrobe choices. At their Carnegie Vanguard high school they created a stir when they had to retake the IQ test, the staff couldn't believe the scores and were afraid it was a mistake. After University, where they obtained an MSc. in Applied Math specialized in Statistical analysis, they returned to Houston and got well-paid positions as NASA analysts. The real money they make on various gambling sites, under various internet identities, where they bet and win big on NFL, NBA and Major League Baseball. They are pesco-vegetarians and live in a condo downtown where they take turns sleeping with their downstairs neighbor. He really likes the arrangement but Suki and Endi think he is really, really silly. They have a cat called Alfredo Morro.

Bubu and Mumu

This is a short play I wrote about the daily life of our prisoners.
Mumu - a walker;
Bubu - a talker;
Cucu, Bubu's mother (has no lines)
In a museum near you ...

Bubu (reading from a brochure in a loud voice, with didactical intonation): "... and then, in the early part of the Cinquecento ..."
Mumu (interrupting in a harsh tone): "Do you have to read that loud?"
Bubu (irritated): "That is how my voice is!"
Mumu (also irritated): "Can't your mother read for herself?"
Bubu (even more irritated): "No! My mother cannot read for herself!"
Mumu (also even more irritated): "Just keep it down!"
Bubu (even more even more irritated): "You keep it down, you ruined my day"
Mumu (also even more even more irritated): "You ruined my life!"

Cucu pulls Bubu away, exeunt.

Falco and Ravi

These are two good friends: Falco and Ravi - they have beers after work almost every day and talk about stuff. Ravi always has questions and Falco is ever so glad to answer. One day, Ravi, who is always very careful to only meet his friend in closed spaces, asked Falco how does it feel to soar really high into the sky an swoop down fast to which Falco replied that the feeling cannot be explained, only lived. Falco also said that Ravi himself moves pretty fast on land and proposed an experiment: "I do my thing, you do your thing and then we talk" to which Ravi agreed. This picture is taken later on that day ... Ravi seems to be content to finally have his answer and Falco seems to say "Told you, I'll do my thing, is what I do".