This endlessly-copied artist knows no bounds of time or space. Colette was born in North Africa to mixed ancestry, raised in France and has been characterized by social gadfly Anthony Haden-Guest as "a gauze-draped pillar of the New York art world."
It is drizzling. Of course it is. The damp air smells of metro fumes and a hint of Terre d'Hermès as I painfully drag my suitcase up the stairs and onto le boulevard Saint Michel. I look around. Red lipstick stands out against the gray sky.
If there was ever any shred of a doubt that Pablo Neruda, nee Neftalí Ricardo Reyes, lived an epic, fantastical life, it can be permanently eradicated by visiting La Chascona in Santiago's Bellavista neighborhood.
I am fascinated by artists who find themselves and their art careers later in life. Unlike, say, mathematicians and scientists who allegedly peak before 30, artists tend to mature and get better with age like a fine wine