Here we are in southern Goa, on Palolem beach, sitting in the Nest cafe bar restaurant next to our cabin, fans whirring overhead, an Indian woman doing her telemarketing in front of us, all attached to her headpieces and computer while gazing out on the sunlit sea, the gentle whoosh of waves rhythmically lapping the [read more…]

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Leaving the house in the shadows of winter, the trees bare and bleak rising toward the cold blue blue sky, we emerge from the village into the light, into the sun, along the narrow roads winding through the rusty vines, filled with wellbeing as we soak that wonderful warmth into our bodies. Locked down in [read more…]

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Journeys is an exhibition of sculpture at Australia House, London, which offers the work of Australian-born Shona Nunan and Michael Francis Cartwright, along with their sons Sollai and Jacob Cartwright. The works, though diverse in terms of materials and aesthetic, are united by a commentary on, and celebration of life, nature and the universe. A: [read more…]

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We have a beautiful bald mountain, Prato Fiorito, (field of flowers), up in the Apennine mountains behind our small village. I often write about this mountain because it is so beautiful. It is a steep climb to the top, up a tiny goat track cut into the thick vegetation of grasses and flowers, a verdant [read more…]

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  Everyday we gaze up at Mount Altissimo and its falling debris of marble from the quarries up there. On one of our days working at the studio, an old artigiani, Romolo, pointed out Michelangelo’s cave, a gaping maw in the face of the edifice, known as the Capella, (chapel), where his excavation in 1517 [read more…]

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It is wild.  It has all been wild.  The weather is tempestuous and volatile, changing quickly from a sunny bright blue day to brooding glowering storms and to dense heavy grey fog that submerge the land into nothing, all in one day and all within hours.  The ground is sodden and covered in bright orange [read more…]

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A short film of Michael hand carving marble at Montsalvat in Victoria, Australia

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My ears are aching from the wild ocean wind.  The cobalt sea is peaking in ragged white out beyond the break water.  We are in Warrnambool, a country town in the south of Victoria, in Australia.  Warrnambool is not far from the twelve apostles, the stony giant monoliths cut off from the mainland by the [read more…]

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