After the historical Iranian city of Isfahan was targeted by several major strikes, its governor Mehdi Jamalinejad claimed that serious damage had been inflicted even after blue shields were put on the roofs of culturally important buildings. This is an internationally recognized signal under the 1954 Hague Convention for the Protection of Cultural Property in the Event of Armed Conflict.
Distance does not soften the terror. It only deepens my helplessness. In moments like this, I realize that geography is not measured in miles, but in attachment. War rearranges distance. These days I find myself returning to "The Conference of the Birds," the 12th-century poem by Attar of Nishapur, seeking meaning through ancient wisdom about spiritual journeys and transformation.
A Bloomberg investigation in January found Khamenei has avoided putting investments in his own name, but they totaled more than $138 million. That includes Swiss bank accounts as well as luxury properties. Among his holdings in several of London's ritziest neighborhoods is a house on "Billionaire's Row." Sources told Bloomberg Khamenei's real-estate empire also boasts a villa in the "Beverly Hills of Dubai" and upscale European hotels.
For over 400 years, the Golestan Palace and its ornate mirror halls, lush gardens, and intricately tiled facade have stood as a testament to Persian opulence and the artistic and political heritage of Iran. The palace, originally built as part of a royal citadel in the 1500s and later renovated and expanded into a royal residence in the 18th and 19th centuries, has remained through centuries of dynastic upheavals, the 1979 Islamic Revolution, and the country's recent history.
On a recent two-week trip to Japan with my fiancé - six cities, six hotels - every stay was gorgeous and perfectly appointed. We wanted for nothing. Except, in most cases, a proper bathroom door. Instead, we spent the better part of two weeks making accidental eye contact through frosted glass and translucent panels while one of us was otherwise occupied. A design choice, apparently. A test of intimacy, definitely.
When Desmond Courtney bought The Schoolmaster's House in Ireland's horse heartland in 2002, he turned it into a "bachelor pad". The civil engineer did most of the restoration of the property himself, with some help from friends. After nearly two decades of living there alone, a random reunification with his long-lost love Monica (née Barron) transformed his life and his Kildare home.
A new summerhouse by Biris-Tsiraki Architects rises above a rocky cape on Antiparos, facing the open Aegean and the island of Despotiko across the water. Set into a steep slope and exposed to northern winds, the house addresses sea, sky, and terrain with a measured architectural language shaped by orientation and movement. From the approach, the building reads as a composition aligned to horizon and topography.
The primary volume is elevated above the site and supported by four inverted-cone white columns. These structural elements lift the building clear of the terrain, preserving visual and physical continuity at ground level and allowing grass, air, and movement to pass beneath the structure. The elevation creates a shaded patio below the main volume, extending the usable space of the villa while reinforcing its lightweight presence.