I’m no risk taker. I don’t gamble. I don’t play the market. I like solid and long-term investments; they’re safer—like, say, real estate, where, even then, my capital is limited to a home and another piece to keep and sell for a profit when the time comes.
In August 2005, our first marriages finally annulled, I and my partner of many years decided to remarry. It was going to be a simple, undramatic affair, undertaken more for its symbolic value to us than for anything else. Definitely more than old enough to deserve to be indulged, we were prepared to walk through it all.
It didn’t fail. We were happily married for 25 years. We separated in 2007, but he moved only 500 meters away from my house. You know why? In 2006, when he retired and finally stopped working after all those years, he realized that he had no walls to put his collection of paintings on. The whole house was filled with mine. All he had was a tiny bureau.
