February 1993. I was at home in lower Manhattan with my first child - just a few months old - when the local news station interrupted regular programming to report that an attempted bombing had taken place in the basement parking garage of one of the twin towers. We couldn't have imagined then that this event would foreshadow a much more devastating event 8 years later. And now, 10 years beyond September 11, 2001, the 9/11 Memorial has opened to visitors wishing to remember. The Memorial is austere. Two pools occupy the footprints of the original towers. Cold, clear water flows down the pools' marble walls into a small pool at each center; the water disappears into these black holes, seemingly back to the earth, only to be recycled to the top to begin the process again.
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For centuries, Venice has been a magnet for eccentric and wealthy expatriates, treasonous poets, artists and their patrons, long-suffering mistresses, reclusive nobles, and refugees. Their wealth, talent, survival - and endurance - are evident in the palazzi along the Grand Canal; in Peggy Guggenheim's astonishing collection of 20th century art; in the splendor of the lavishly restored Ca' Rezzonico palazzo; in the house American poet Ezra Pound shared with his mistress; and in a centuries-old monastery. For hundreds of years, many have come to Venice seeking solitude, creative inspiration, riches. And in one case, a sanctuary.
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Saturday morning in Brixton Village, South London: sunshine pours in through the covered market's high windows, kids charge up the aisles on scooters and colourful cafés heave with brunching groups. Once due for demolition, the Village is now a weekend pilgrimage for Londoners who'd never normally go further south than Waterloo Station. Cafes, boutiques and record stores moved in among the fishmongers and grocery stalls, and a buzzy new food destination was born.
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