For six decades, James Reeve has been exhibiting and selling his paintings, although his cousin—historian Antonia Fraser—strongly suggested that he should have been a writer. Finally getting down to it, Reeve shares tales and anecdotes from a life spent in motion, with colorful accounts of an Italian meeting with Mrs. Acton, the mother of aesthete Harold Acton; being captured by pygmies in the Congo forest; and discovering a distant cloud-forest village in Mexico, where he built a house and stayed for the next 35 years.