Rovina Cai – The Art of Storytelling

Iceland Sketches: Trolls Illustration by Rovina Cai
Iceland Sketches: Trolls Illustration by Rovina Cai

Rovina Cai is an illustrator from Australia.  Her illustrations are often based on myth, poetry, or the stories of historical figures.   Each work evokes a sense of the story unfolding and leaves the viewer hungry to know more of the story.  The above illustration is about two basalt columns in Iceland that are said to be two trolls turned to stone.  She gives background on her images at her blog, you can see more of her work on her website and you can buy prints of her work here.  There is more of her work on my blog HERE.



Miles to Go
Miles to Go


Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

By Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Summer Storm
Summer Storm



Iceland Sketches - The Whale Road
Iceland Sketches – The Whale Road



Percy Bysshe Shelley
Percy Bysshe Shelley: Sea Change

A Portion of Ariel’s Song from The Tempest by William Shakespeare is on Percy Bysshe Shelley’s grave stone.


William Shakespeare (1564-1616)

                from The Tempest

                      Ariel’s Song

    Come unto these yellow sands,
And then take hands:
Curtsied when you have, and kiss’d
The wild waves whist,
Foot it featly here and there;
And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear.
Hark, hark!
The watch-dogs bark.
Hark, hark! I hear
The strain of strutting chanticleer
Cry, Cock-a-diddle-dow.

    Full fathom five thy father lies;
Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes:
Nothing of him that doth fade,
    But doth suffer a sea-change
    Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:
Hark! now I hear them—Ding-dong, bell.




Iceland Sketches: Ravens
Iceland Sketches: Ravens



Next to Me – Sleeping at Last

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