She’s here. Il Dolce Far Niente, an ode to the spirit of summer, the result of an enduring love affair with Southern Italy, a meditation on the quiet poetry of who we are beside the sea.
What began so many moons ago as a kernel of an idea is now a real thing to hold in my hands, which feels pretty good. Greater still is the privilege of bringing a book into the world alongside talented, inspiring people. The wonder team @artisan_books , writer @leesitaly who wove shape and meaning into each chapter, designer @giulia_garbin who brought a visual language to each page with grace and ease.
The book is available to order now at the link in my profile.
A dopo!
Practices that map and record the tapestry of migration, love, story and place. Exploring and documenting the generational craft of the Kutch region in Gujarat with @threadcaravan . Magic 🤍 My dear friend @caitlin.garcia.ahern is running this trip again next year, more over @threadcaravan
Even though I’m always eager for spring, a quiet beauty belongs to the plain light of January. Photographed for @withnothingunderneath earlier this year.
Some twenty years ago Costa Rica was the first stop on a year long adventure which shaped the course for the rest of my life.
By working six jobs I scraped together enough cash for an around the world ticket (then a real, tangible sheaf of flight tickets to be carefully kept.) For finding our way we had a Lonely Planet the weight of a brick with inaccurate maps, dial up internet was reserved for sending monthly dispatches assuring our families we were alive. Blissfully, no smartphones.
We landed in Santa Teresa, then a dirt road town where at night the road was coated in lashings of molasses to suppress the dust. There was howler monkeys in the trees and iguanas the size of alligators. No ATMs. On Wednesdays we danced at Marazul and hitchhiked home. We spent almost two months living at a hostel, existing on rice beans and beer, having the time of our lives. All that exists as evidence of this time are a handful of 2 megapixel photographs burned on a CD somewhere.
Last month I returned to this country that I have a great tenderness for. I find it heartening wild beaches and wild animals remain. In Santa Teresa two decades have given way to pilates and coffee shops, a paved road and sushi and wine bars too, (all exceptional.) The monkeys are less but one bellowed reassuringly outside my window at 3:30am one morning. And the beach still exists in its wild way.
