Aperitivo

A Sunday Afternoon idea.

Hello there,

It’s possible you found this by mistake. If so, well done. Serendipity is an underrated luxury these days.

I am not a writer, nor am I an artist of any sort. But I suppose telling stories is the natural outcome of a life lived well. When you've spend enough afternoons watching drops of water slide down cooled bottles, you start to think: perhaps I ought to write something down. Just for the pleasure of recording it all. The gloss and the rot. For the pleasant futility that it is.

I write when something amuses me. Which, (un)fortunately, is often. So in a random Sunday afternoon I uncorked a bottle and somewhere between the third plate of cheese and the second bottle, the idea started to sound interesting.

Which brings me to this endeavor. Here, I intend to write some essays. I am not sure of where this is going to, and I plan not to plan it. It'll unfold as it wills; slowly, as it should. We’re not in a hurry here. If that's what you’re after, may I suggest New York? It’s full of people running very fast toward things they pretend not to want.

I have no interest in self-exposure. I’m not here to be known. I’m simply an observer. A chronicler of the incidental. A noticer of things that perhaps don’t matter all that much. There will be travel tales. Aperitifs. Misdemeanors. Maybe a little fiction. It'll be some dispatches from a lounge chair, thoughts from a life leisurely led.

But you won’t find anything terribly urgent here.

Instead, I’ll write to you from a place where the sun moves slowly and the olives come in little silver bowls; where I will be, either physically or mentally. Where people wear linen because it’s hot, not because of fashion. And where every now and then, someone says something interesting; often by accident.

I don't see this so much as a newsletter, but more as a pastime. You’re welcome to join. Comment, if you like. Offer suggestions, if you must. But if you do, make them brutally honest. Anything less is irrelevant.

Now, I’ve got a meeting to miss and a tan to maintain.

Until next time,