By Irina Abraham I step over the threshold of Archie Broady’s house and I am in a different world. It’s an art gallery, a library, an artist salon… in fact, it is the inside of Archie’s mind. He presides over his small living room that feels more like a hall in a castle. The right wall is lined with books: everything from Pushkin to Shakespeare. An eclectic but tasteful selection of art objects occupies the rest of the walls and every corner. The table that dominates the room is a masterpiece: it is a salvaged window of a burnt-out church in Bali encased in glass. Archie dives straight into the…