Oculus, World Trade Center

What strikes you about New Yorkers is the yadda-yadda-yadda. It’s constant. Everyone walks around with a white golf tee hanging out their ear; everyone is hustling or in the throes of clinching a deal. They bark into their phones — held horizontally like Kim Kardashian — or they talk to themselves (they have an earpiece) or they’re bending someone else’s ear. They’re either trying to get in somewhere (a company, school/university, programme, theatre production) or they’re being hustled (head-hunted, bullied, ignored, facing competitive rivalry) — or they’re self-analysing (themselves, others).


Wherever we are, there the yadda-yadda is … even Buddhist monks get to do it. Le District was the cool bar we rested our feet at (and imbibed a glass of chardonnay or two) after walking from one end of Manhattan to the other … well, almost. Our view was the yacht basin outside the Winter Garden.



Graphic lines from inside the Winter Garden; those trees are extra tall palms. Above right  A novel way to sell retail property.


Remembering a loved one who was lost on Sept 11, at one of the building-footprint waterfalls at the new World Trade Center.


I present to you the World Trade Center Transportation Hub, designed by Santiago Calatrava and named “Oculus”. His vision was to design a structure that would symbolise a dove released from a child’s hand. Inside, a 335-foot-long skylight forms a central rib to the dome (below right) and every September 11th, at exactly 10:28 a.m., the skylight is opened to allow light to fill the main hub of the transport hall this is the moment that the North Tower collapsed on 11 September 2001. The Oculus is also a symbol for how light continues to shine through after the darkness of that tragic day. The term “oculus” is from Latin, meaning a round or eye-like opening.




Bright and beautiful street art on the hoarding outside and around the World Trade Center.