Travel Writer

This photo, taken in New York in 1983 and recently recovered from the attic, brings the words of the title to mind. It was what I strove to be, achieved to a degree, then, and, perhaps, have added to in recent years. I was twenty-three years old and already felt a veteran of the world stage. I had worn and sweated in this self-same shirt in travels around Europe, Spain (in depth), Egypt, India and, then, the US, in consecutive years. My five years of legal studies ran in uneasy parallel to this taste for creative adventure.

Of course, the true desires won out as they always do. I do wonder, however, if a greater level of self awareness and/or courage or encouragement would have taken me further in the writing field . . . to be a foreign correspondent, perhaps.

Having said all that, I only have one regret and that is having cropped my curls too often during too many years . . . I intend to let them flow more freely in the years to come!