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Inside the Sublime World of Late Sculptor J. B. Blunk / AD

Inside the Sublime World of Late Sculptor J. B. Blunk A stunning, handmade idyll where redwood, river stones, ceramic, and creativity reign Imagine living not only in the midst of pristine natural surroundings but actually feeling truly embraced by them, breathing in warm woody aromas as an abundance of curvaceous redwood forms hug you inward. Such is the state of being inside the intimate, hand-built abode of the late prolific American sculptor J. B. Blunk, who began creating it in the late ‘50s in Inverness, California, after his friend and patron, the surrealist painter Gordon Onslow-Ford, offered him an acre of land. Though he was Kansas-born and UCLA-educated in ceramics, Blunk’s earthbound life traces to Japan, where he spent four years living in the early ‘50s and where he met renowned artist Isamu Noguchi by chance. Noguchi was responsible for the introduction to Onslow-Ford, who allowed Blunk to climb trees on his land in search of the perfect plot for his future home, which became the pure expression of his artistic being...

Lovell Health House / Cereal

The Lovell Health House MEMORY OF MELANCHOLY I enter the Lovell Health House wearing a mask. Before the pandemic, the house was briefly open for tours – the inner corners of the famous casement windows scrubbed clean, the soft grey carpets vacuumed for the tread of incoming guests. Preserved almost unchanged for over half a century, the house is ready for restoration; it is an icon calling to be healed from the foundations up, soothing arthritic steel and boosting scarred stucco. Since lockdown, the doors have been closed to visitors – open only for the aesthetically intrepid and constitutionally foolhardy. I’ve made my way up the hill on an electric bicycle that rattles like a stairlift – a health-conscious replacement for a car, which only leaves me more vulnerable to the whims of passing Maseratis. But here, up high, the roads are narrow and slow, shaded by strata of palms, eucalyptus, the sudden purple of jacaranda. By the time I reach the house, I’m in good spirits – and entirely unprepared for the melancholy which rises like a fever as I cross the threshold...

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