We created Earth in Action to provide a lens into what's happening on our planet, as it happens. Whether it's something typical, like the current air temperature, or an extreme event like a major dust storm, we wanted to provide an opportunity for people to see them.
Viewpoints are structures designed for observing the landscape from elevated positions. They act as devices that organize the gaze and establish a direct relationship between the body and the territory.
Along coastlines, where tides are typically magnified, they profoundly affect navigation, commerce, coastal flooding, water properties and sediment transport. Tides impact the flooding of rivers and, thus, influence the extent of their floodplain, which has cascading effects on biogeochemical and ecological processes.
Signals from Global Navigation Satellite Systems are quite vulnerable. They are exceptionally weak, meaning that any radio noise near their frequency, accidental or malicious, can interfere with reception. I am confident that there are people in every government who understand the problem. The challenge is getting leadership to both understand and act to reduce the risk.
Here dwells the indigenous Tzotzil community which has kept a pastoral way of life against the march of time. Apart from the odd forest ranger and passerby, Ruvalcaba's film focuses almost entirely on the Tzotzil women. Together, they tend herds of sheep which they still shear by hand, and use traditional tools for spinning yarns and natural dye for fabrics.
The body is a shifting landscape transformed by surfaces and sensations. Each look captures a different tactile world: the heat of blood, the cool weight of metal, the yielding drift of water. The result is a sculptural study of how the elements carve, shield, and release the self. The materials we embody become the emotions we carry, and the body becomes a materialised exhibition of our emotions, from the pulse of Blood to the discipline of Metal to the surrender of Water.
Beneath the visible surface of cities lies an invisible architecture. Subways, tunnels, water systems, data cables, and bunkers form a dense network that sustains urban life while remaining largely unseen. The ground beneath our feet is not a void but a complex territory that holds the infrastructures, memories, and anxieties of our age. In recent years, as land becomes scarce and climate pressures intensify, architects and urbanists have turned their gaze downward, rediscovering the subterranean as both a physical and conceptual frontier.
If you did this, you were probably struck by one thing above all else: Greenland is huge. Freaking huge. It looks about twice as big as the U.S., roughly as big as North America and Central America combined. And despite the public waffling between saying we need it for its military or natural resource offerings, this is probably the reason Trump wants it.
Just before winter break, news broke that the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill plans to close its centers for African, Asian, European, Middle Eastern, Latin American and Slavic, Eurasian and East European studies. Though UNC administrators said in a statement that decisions on closures are not finalized, they confirmed they are evaluating centers and institutes as part of a budget-cutting effort in response to state and federal funding changes.
Cities around the world share a common goal: to become healthier and greener, supported by civic infrastructure that restores ecosystems and strengthens public life. The question is how to reach this. Global climate targets, local building codes, and municipal standards increasingly guide designers and planners toward better choices. Still, many cities struggle to translate these frameworks into everyday, street-level comfort and long-term ecological protection.
AI, like Google Maps, provides the "prediction" of the best route, but the "judgement" of the destination remains with the driver (Author x Gemini) Yet when it comes to using AI for decisions, I see people paralysed by exactly these fears. This ranges from choosing what to study to planning a career move to even planning an article. "Is this cheating?" "Will I lose my critical thinking skills?" or "Am I even thinking for myself anymore?"
Across history, the relocation of capital cities has often been associated with moments of political rupture, regime change, or symbolic nation-building. From Brasília to Islamabad, new capitals were frequently conceived as instruments of centralized power, territorial control, or ideological projection. In recent decades, however, a different set of drivers has begun to shape these decisions. Rather than security or representation alone, contemporary capital relocations are increasingly tied to structural pressures such as demographic concentration, infrastructural saturation, environmental risk, and long-term resource management.