I could try to take you down every single emotional, situational and logistical rabbit-hole that’s slightly derailed my writing, but I won’t.

Here’s the problem with being me: Me.

In fact, I named the blog something that was a subtle inference about the odd amalgam of talents that comprise my essential being; I’d like to compare myself to epic Renaissance Man, Thomas Jefferson, insofar as my interests in anything and everything are far and wide, but I won’t. I know better than that.  So did president Kennedy, when, hosting a dinner of Nobel-laureate scientists for a Whitehouse dinner, once said “There hasn’t been a greater quantity of intelligence gathered in this room since Thomas Jefferson dined here alone.”

I put quotes there, but I’m too lazy to look up the actual one right now.

One of my fascinations has been language.  Many years ago, I started to learn Hungarian, because I was in the frequent company of some dear, Hungarian friends.  The problem with this is, they ALL moved away, and I was left to say cute and flowing phrases from the region Magyar by myself.

A few years later, I got it in my mind that I wanted to interpret for the deaf.  And, believe it or not, I did wind up doing this for a spell–a rather tumultuous spell, complete with the pratfalls that come with a lack of experience.

At least I am conversationally-fluent.  And that feels good, because I am legitimately bi-lingual in this one area.

So now, I’m headed down the long road to Portuguese. And by that I mean Brazilian Portuguese.  This is by and large because the heretofore-mentioned band, Oficina G3,  noticed me on Instagram, and sent some 900 mazing, awesome, and . . . wow, SPIRITED Brazilians careening my way.  I already had some dear friends over there.  Now, I might actually make it over there this next year,and I happen to LOVE the language.

So in my interactions with them–this group being almost entirely Christian, I began to discover that a raging eddy of CS Lewis fans exist in Brazil, and that his greatest works have been translated into Portuguese. And this goes double for epic-work-that-will-forever-eclipse-all-for-me:  Mere Christianity.

I was somewhat skeptical that his work could carry the same magical, preternatural descriptive wind that it does in English.  But since I started extracting key quotes from the Portuguese editions and making “Memes” with them, I see the same reactions in the hearts and minds of the Brazilian: they are stunned.

So I have desire to speak the language.  But I have  secondary desire to read the language as well.  And read it in a way that I can formulate a thought in that language.

I’ve already found an E-edition of the book and downloaded into my Nook.  But I want a hard copy.  I’m going to do this.

And the journey is now underway.