VW: Second Life
I am Leandro Rinaldo Malaspina, Chairman and Attorney General of the Academy of Literature, Sciences and Arts of London, Prime Minister of the Kingdom of Sardinia, Royal Chancellor and Secretary of Foreign Affairs for Italian States at the Court of Spain, Counsellor of the Royal Superior Council of Castille, Chairman of the Academy of Latin Letters, Grandee of Spain, Duke of Miranda, Marquis of Caserta, Marquis of Altare, Marquis of Mont Saint Bruno, Count of Rietberg, Baron of Bexar, Conseigneur of Cellamonte, Grand Master of the Order of the Teutonic Knights, Commander of the Order of St. Bruno of Cologne, Grand Chancellor of the Order of St. Stephen Pope and Martyr, Commendator of the Order of Alcantara, Knight of the Royal Order of San Gennaro of Naples, Silesian Officer, Bavarian High Dignitary, Knight of Neuchatel, Architecte du Roi, Official Royal Supplier of Furnitures and "Objets d'Art" of the Spanish Crown.
The wind was peacefully and silently gliding amid the blooming pansies when I came to life, in rebus humanis, in the Year of our Lord 1758. My entire world were the mountains and the green valleys embracing the idle course of River Trebbia, until my studies led me to the Academy of London. I first became Secretary of that Institution, then Legal Representative and eventually Chairman, position that I'm still holding.
Along with the Art of Diplomacy, I love History, Art, Literature, Heraldry, Ancient Languages, Drawing and Reading everything I can place my hands on. I had the opportunity to be the architect and builder of several big Palaces inworld; I also make textures, furniture, clothes and SL rococo portraits.
It's funny how few decades can turn the world upside down. I thought my valley was too tight to contain my dreams, so I ran away, through the blurry horizon, and when I finally paused for breath, I realized that my dreams were already changed. I collected titles and honors, important positions and tasks I'm honoured to accomplish, but at the end of the day, when I open the doors of my room, when I put down my old monocle in its pouch lined with corduroy, and when I softly fall asleep surrounded by my rich damask sheets, my thoughts always reach my dear old valley so far away. And even if my sweet lovely pansies now are all gone, strangled by the industrial revolution, my spirit still runs up on the hills, playing with the wind, and following the River Trebbia in its eternal and peaceful flowing.