From Marina Park to Cork's Future

What a park catalyses: biodiversity, community, and the city it reshapes. Patrick McCabe (Redscape) & Rani Izhar (Okra) · Host: Jackie De Burca Photo · Marina Park Promenade Cork by Jason Gairn for OKRA In the third and final part of our series on Cork's Marina Park, Jackie De Burca returns one more time to Patrick McCabe of Redscape and Rani Izhar of Okra Landscape Architects to ask what Marina Park has catalysed since Phase 1 opened in 2020. The answer, five years on, is richer than any of the designers originally imagined — in the ecology, in the community, and in a wider regeneration of Cork's docklands that is still unfolding. About this episode If you haven't heard them yet, we'd recommend starting with Episode 1 — Building Ireland's First Water Park and Episode 2 — Living With Water. Episode 1 walks through the vision behind Marina Park and its fifteen-year making; Episode 2 goes underneath the park into the philosophy that shapes the whole thing. Today's episode asks what has actually happened. A park opens. People turn up. Nature turns up. The city follows. Patrick tells us about the otters now making their way through Marina Park's drainage, the heronry in the Atlantic pond, and the rich biodiversity the River Lee has quietly brought into the heart of the design. Rani introduces the deliberate split between zones for people and zones only for wildlife — and the dedicated long-term maintenance Cork City Council has committed to, which holds the whole balance together. Then the story opens outward. Patrick picks up the revival of the historic marina promenade — pedestrianised after decades of car dominance, now drawing thousands of weekend walkers — and the quiet Dutch word flanira that captures the strolling-and-being-seen culture Cork is rediscovering. Rani closes with what's coming next: the North Docks project moving a road back from the water, the South Docks framework master plan, and a 300-year-old vision of a riverside walk finally being completed, stretch by stretch. And both reflect on what medium-sized cities everywhere could learn from Cork's approach. In this episode In this episode 00:00Intro — what a park catalyses when the ribbon is cut 01:20Patrick on Cork's biodiversity — otters at the boat-club pontoons, the Atlantic Pond heronry, Monaghan Road's permanent water feature 02:59Singapore, rewilding, and giving nature more space in urban parks 05:10Rani on two-tier nature — the Celtic/Druidic heritage, and zones designed to be off-limits to people 06:29Keeping biodiversity and public space from undermining each other — natural succession and a council committed for the long term 09:15Patrick on the pedestrianised marina and flanira — "try it for a weekend", strolling and showing off, cars removed 11:05Family, community, and kids on the promenade in the age of tablets 12:10Marina Park as catalyst — clubs, entrepreneurs, cafés, river kayaking, many moving parts 13:52Rani on the North Docks, South Docks and the navigation walk — moving the road back, Part 8 approval, the riverside walk Cork was promised 300 years ago 16:04Lessons for medium-sized cities — maritime and industrial identity as the design principle, not a generic docks development 17:42Patrick's series close — "fitting and matching, learning in both directions" 18:10Outro — the series wrap and a Living Places invitation Meet the guests Patrick McCabe Landscape architect · Founder, Redscape Irish-born, Netherlands-based, Patrick trained at University College Dublin and t...

America grows about as much lawn as it grows wheat — and nobody thinks of mowing as agriculture. Rob Avis does. In the second of a two-part series, Jackie De Burca and Rob Avis get practical. How he actually designs a piece of land, what he tells people who are about to buy one, a Calgary school where a market garden did work that indoor sessions could not — and what any of it means for the roofs, streets and gardens that make up the built environment. About this episode Part one was the argument. This one is the method. Rob opens on the house you are probably sitting in. The closest thing to a modern North American home, he says, is a hospital patient: a bedpan to take the waste away, drips bringing in food, water and power, and total dependence on every one of those systems continuing to work. From there he walks through the five-step process he and Michelle set out in Building Your Permaculture Property — values and vision, diagnosis, design, implementation, monitoring — and the Venn diagram at the heart of it: the overlap between what you want from a piece of land and what that land will do effortlessly. The most affecting passage has nothing to do with engineering. Vaden Sommers runs a school in Calgary for children who have come out of very hard situations, and he has built a market garden, a passive solar greenhouse and an interpretive pond on ground he does not own. Girls arriving off the street, Rob says, are able to heal by nurturing a tomato — and the neuroscience is starting to catch up with why. Then he turns to the audience listening: the planners, engineers and architects who, he argues, spend their attention on everything from the air barrier inward and almost none on how a building meets the ground around it. Roofs, roads and pavements all become water-harvesting opportunities. Wastewater becomes nitrogen, phosphorus and potassium. And the front lawn turns out to be the largest and least examined farm in North America. In this episode 00:00Intro — the modern house as a sick hospital patient, kept alive on drips01:03Sewage is an opportunity, not a problem — and the phosphorus clock02:00The five-step process, and the book it comes from03:26Deforest, plow, desertify — what happened to the Fertile Crescent04:04The vegetarian in the Northwest Territories — when your goals and your land disagree05:08Diagnosing the land — strengths, weaknesses, and Gandhi on diagnosis06:36Monitoring — biodiversity, nutrient density, better-tasting food, more dinners08:12“Imagine I'm going to buy some land in Spain” — goals before property, and the 400-year plan11:08Why you are the best person to design your own land12:25Land tends towards something — olives don't grow in Alberta14:13Vaden Sommers at Hull Services — a market garden, a greenhouse, and why land access isn't land ownership16:42The ten thousand students, and what became of them18:16Sleeper cells — why permaculture scales in decentralised nodes20:41Unplugging, and why teaching has to happen on the land21:50Built environment professionals — Henry Ford, silos, and designing from the air barrier inward22:45“Every square metre of Earth as a solar panel” — Odum's maximum power principle, wheat field versus rainforest24:16Wastewater is just NPK — roofs, roads, pavements, and Tucson's rain gardens26:37We're all lawn farmers — the Hummer figure, and carbon neutral overnight30:06The prime directive — cob ovens, pizza parties, and picking your own toppings Meet the guest Rob Avis Mechanical engineer, P.Eng. · Co-lead, 5th World Rob Avis, P.Eng., is a mechanical engineer who left oil and gas in 2008 to learn how land could be managed better. He co-leads <...

Nature Needs Us to Interfere Conservation usually starts from the idea that nature does best when we leave it alone. Rob Avis thinks that instinct is the problem. Rob Avis P.Eng. (5th World) · Host: Jackie De Burca In the first of a two-part series, Jackie De Burca talks to Rob Avis — a mechanical engineer who left the Alberta oil patch to spend the last two decades designing regenerative farms, homesteads and buildings — about beavers, entropy, and why the instinct to keep our hands off nature may be doing more damage than the interference it was meant to prevent. About this episode Rob Avis was clearing forest for oil pipelines when he started doing arithmetic. He worked out roughly how many hours a human life contains — about 600,000 — realised he had spent a third of his, and asked what he wanted to do with the rest. In 2008, with oil at record highs and almost nobody interested in energy descent, he and his wife Michelle left engineering careers worth three hundred thousand dollars a year between them and moved in with her mother. What he came back with is an argument that cuts against most environmental messaging. Humans are not inherently destructive, he says — we simply lack feedback. We are the first people in history able to see the damage we have done from orbit, and the same capacity that shows us the wreckage is the one we will use to repair it. The centrepiece of this episode is a creek on his own farm in central Alberta, and the beavers the previous owner used to kill. To an untrained eye they have made a mess: trees down, land flooded. Rob's contention is that they are increasing the complexity of that landscape dramatically — and that the difference between damage and regeneration is not whether you disturb a system, but the scale, timing, placement and form of the disturbance. From there the conversation widens into a genuine challenge to conservation by exclusion: national parks, Allan Savory's elephant cull, and the wolves of Yellowstone. In the next episode we get into method — how Rob actually designs a property, and what any of this means for roofs, streets and gardens. In this episode 00:00Intro — we live amongst our own ruins, and why Rob thinks that's a hopeful fact04:09600,000 hours — the calculation that took two engineers out of the Alberta oil patch10:09Three days of food — how deep a city's supply actually runs13:58Entropy and syntropy — Howard Odum, and how the Fertile Crescent became a desert14:55Energy slaves — the hidden labour inside a barrel of oil16:27The beavers on his creek — eight to ten families, and the owner who used to kill them17:18Vermin and invasive — judgements dressed as descriptions, and the 28-fold claim20:19The problem with national parks — Rob's case against conservation by exclusion22:57Allan Savory's elephants — a cull, and the land that degraded anyway23:49Yellowstone's wolves — what happened when the predators came back28:10Why bad news doesn't move people — the amygdala problem in environmental messaging28:51The canoe — look at the rock and you hit the rock33:39Who actually comes to this work — fear as an entry point, and why it's a poor place to stay35:34“It's the climate between our ears” — the problems are social, not technical36:33A Rosa Parks moment — why change never comes from the majority37:21Outro — Jackie on what Part 2 answers Meet the guest Rob Avis Mechanical engineer, P.Eng. · Co-lead, 5th World Rob Avis, P.Eng., is a mechanical engineer who left oil and gas in 2008 to learn how land could be managed better. He co-leads 5...

A broken furnace, a brick made of soil, and a question most construction materials never have to answer: what happens to it when nobody wants the building any more? Professor Theodore Hanein · Lei Zhang · Anna Simmons · Cecilia Pesce (earth4Earth) · Host: Jackie De BurcaRelease Jackie De Burca spends this episode inside one company. earth4Earth makes bricks out of soil dug from building sites, bound with a lime its co-founder worked out how to make at room temperature — by accident, on a day the lab furnace wouldn't switch on. Four of the people behind it explain what they have built, what the industry says back to them, and why the most interesting question about a brick might be what happens to it at the end. About this episode In 2017, Professor Theodore Hanein went into a laboratory to heat a material and found the furnace broken. He mixed it cold instead, ran the characterisation anyway, and got results good enough to keep. What he had stumbled into was a way of producing lime — one of the most widely used bulk materials on earth — without the roughly 900°C kiln the process has needed since antiquity. He did not publish until 2021, and an attempt to patent it was turned down. That binder is now in a brick. The bricks are made from soil excavated at construction sites that would otherwise be landfilled, mixed with the lime-based binder, and compressed rather than fired. Because the lime carbonates as the brick sits in the open air, it keeps absorbing carbon dioxide during its service life. Independent verification by EPD Hub found the company's N10 brick to be carbon negative across its full life cycle, absorbing in the region of 0.178 kg of CO₂ per brick — a real number, and one worth knowing the size of before anyone reaches for the phrase "buildings as carbon sinks". At end of life the bricks can be crushed and remade, or returned to soil to grow things in, which concrete cannot be. The commercial half of the story belongs to Lei Zhang, a structural engineer of eighteen years who was handed a finished design in 2020 and asked to make it net zero. He went looking for a way to do it and concluded the technology did not exist. Later, calculating embodied carbon for a building on HS2, he found a single structure carrying more than 400 tonnes of CO₂ — a figure he had not expected and could not design away. He had read about Part Z, an industry-drafted proposal for whole-life carbon reporting, and assumed regulation was coming. It still has not. The episode carries a short correction on that point: embodied carbon remains unregulated in the UK, which arguably sharpens his argument rather than weakening it. The most bracing passage comes from Cecilia Pesce, whose background is in the chemistry of conserving cultural heritage. Asked what the past can teach sustainable building, she gives the expected answer — raw earth is an ancient technique, dismissed as rudimentary, and it works — and then volunteers the opposite case. Traditional lime production is badly incompatible with modern carbon targets: you burn fuel to heat limestone, and the limestone itself releases CO₂ as it breaks down. The old ways are not automatically the wise ones, and the company's entire proposition rests on having replaced one of them. Then there is the catch. Anna Simmons, who handles business support, is candid about the reception: real enthusiasm, and real scepticism, because when something sounds that good people go looking for the flaw. She does not claim the bricks are cheap. Some prospective customers tell her the price is outside their budget; others are pleasantly surprised. In an episode largely made of people describing their own company, that sentence does more for its credibility than any of the carbon figures. The range that answers the objection: standard bricks, brick slips and frogged bricks, in colours that follow the soil or...

In the second of our three-part series on Cork's Marina Park, Jackie De Burca sits down again with Patrick McCabe of Redscape and Rani Izhar of Okra Landscape Architects to go underneath the park, into the philosophy that shapes the whole thing. Patrick calls it living with water. Rani has it at the top of Okra's three strategic themes. For both of them, it starts with the same instinct — one Patrick first developed in his years training and working in the Netherlands. About this episode If you haven't heard it yet, we'd recommend starting with Episode 1 — Building Ireland's First Water Park, which walks through the vision behind Marina Park, its 15-year making, and the heritage its designers pulled out of the undergrowth. For most of the last century, Irish cities have treated water as a hazard. Walls have gone up around rivers. Smaller streams have been piped over, built across, or quietly forgotten. Marina Park is one attempt to remember another way — water as a quality to be designed with, not a threat to be walled out. This episode is about what that philosophy actually looks like in practice. Patrick walks through his Dutch design education and the Rivers 2040 study, and makes the case for small urban rivers as regional green corridors rather than service lanes behind the city. Rani introduces Okra's three strategic themes — living with water, healthy urban living, rediscovering landscapes — and then digs into the mechanism of the sponge park itself: a hidden valve, hours of held stormwater, and how the river becomes part of the park's identity rather than something defended against. The second half of the episode travels further afield. Patrick unpacks the Dutch design culture that opens projects with the question what amazing thing can we do here? and contrasts it with Ireland's shift from positive relationship to concrete walls. Rani introduces Katwijk — a Dutch coastal town that turned sea defence into a public park visited from all around the world. And both end on the two-way traffic of ideas between Ireland and the Netherlands, including the possibility of floating houses on Cork's docklands. In the third and final episode, we ask what Marina Park has catalysed since it opened — biodiversity, community, and Cork's wider future. In this episode 00:00Intro — a different way to think about water01:38Patrick McCabe on his Dutch training and Rivers 2040 — water as a quality, not a problem02:15Small rivers at the back of Irish cities — Limerick, Dublin, the Dodder, the Santry03:44Rani Izhar on Okra's three strategic themes — living with water, healthy urban living, rediscovering landscapes05:24The sponge park — a hidden valve and six hours of held storm water07:15Patrick on Dutch design culture — "What amazing thing can we do here?"09:00Patrick on Ireland's water history — from trade asset to concrete walls10:20Rani on the integral approach — overlaying green and blue networks11:59Katwijk — a Dutch coastal town that turned sea defence into a park13:25Could floating houses sit on Cork's docklands?14:37Cork and Utrecht — two medium-sized water cities, ideas travelling both ways15:25Outro — what's coming in Episode 3 Meet the guests Patrick McCabe Landscape architect · Founder, Redscape Irish-born, Netherlands-based, Patrick trained at University College Dublin and then took a design masters in the Netherlands. He's the founder and director of Redscape, working across regional-scale planning, parks, heritage and water management between Ireland and the...

Most parks are designed not to flood. Cork's Marina Park is designed to do exactly that. In the first of a three-part series, Jackie De Burca sits down with the two landscape architects behind Cork's Marina Park — Patrick McCabe of Redscape and Rani Ishar of Okra Landscape Architects — to unpack how a low-lying, formerly derelict 36-hectare site on the edge of Cork's South Docklands became one of the most ambitious pieces of public realm in modern Ireland. About this episode Marina Park is often described as Ireland's first water park — not because of leisure or waves, but because water is the organising idea running through the whole design. The park is engineered to hold hours of stormwater when the River Lee is too high to drain into, and to release it back when the tide falls. Around that engineering sits a public space that hosts hurling finals at Páirc Uí Chaoimh, a promenade walked by more than ten thousand people at weekends, and a heritage trail reaching back to the 18th century. This first episode is about how the park came to be. Patrick and Rani walk through the international competition Okra won in 2012, the multidisciplinary team that shaped the design, the fifteen-year phased delivery, the signature sinuous lines drawn from the river's own historic geography, the iconic red building preserved from the old showgrounds, and the layers of Cork history the park has quietly pulled back into public life. In the next episode we get into the philosophy — living with water, and what Irish cities could learn from it. In the third, we look at what Marina Park has catalysed since it opened. Patrick McCabe Landscape architect · Founder, Redscape Irish-born, Netherlands-based, Patrick trained at University College Dublin and then took a design masters in the Netherlands. He's the founder and director of Redscape, working across regional-scale planning, parks, heritage and water management between Ireland and the Netherlands. He is part of Rivers 2040, an international study exploring how urban rivers could become central to regeneration. Rani Ishar Associate Architect · Okra Landscape Architects Rani is an Associate Architect at Okra Landscape Architects, the Utrecht-based Dutch firm that led Marina Park's design. Okra's fifteen-year relationship with Cork began with the 2012 Marina Park competition and now extends to the North Docks, the South Docks and wider docklands regeneration. Rani focuses on integrated public-realm design for climate adaptation, urban naturalisation and healthy urban living.

“We have a solution that is already here. It’s already doing the work that needs to be done. And all we have to do is let them complete the job.” Paul Koberstein He has spent forty years reporting on the forests of the Pacific Northwest — and he is convinced they may be the most powerful climate technology on Earth. Environmental journalist Paul Koberstein, co-author of Canopy of Titans: The Life and Times of the Great North American Temperate Rainforest, makes a deceptively simple argument: the oldest, biggest trees are not scenery, and they are not merely a timber reserve. They are among the most effective carbon-storage systems on the planet — and they are already running. The book began as an investigation and became a celebration. Stretching some 2,500 miles north of San Francisco into Alaska, the great North American temperate rainforest holds some of the largest trees in the world and an immense capacity to draw carbon out of the air. The older a tree gets, the more it stores, and the more it keeps taking in every single day. That reframes the whole climate conversation. We must stop burning fossil fuels, Koberstein insists — but that alone won’t undo three centuries of carbon already in the atmosphere. Only trees can do that. The machine exists. It is running. All we have to do is let it finish the job. “These are the trees that we should protect — the old trees, the big trees, the trees that store the most carbon.” Paul Koberstein In this episode of Constructive Voices, Jackie De Burca speaks with Paul about old growth and carbon, the difference between a forest and a plantation, the rapid dismantling of a century of US forest protection, wildfire and the violent “fires that make their own weather,” the misinformation flowing from the timber industry — and the question every builder should ask before specifying timber: what forest paid the price? In this episode Jackie and Paul explore why old forests deserve to be treated as critical climate infrastructure — and why protecting them is as much a political and communication challenge as an ecological one. They discuss: why the oldest, biggest trees are our best natural defence against climate change what the great North American temperate rainforest is, and why it matters far beyond its own region why a plantation is not a forest — on carbon, biodiversity and water how recent US policy is dismantling more than a century of forest conservation the eye-watering cost of the plan to thin 112 million acres — and what it means for democracy why “wildfire prevention” can be industrial logging in disguise pyrocumulonimbus: the fires so violent they punch smoke into the stratosphere why these fires now reach Spain, Portugal and the Mediterranean the symbiosis between salmon and trees the timber industry’s “plant three for every one we cut” messaging — and what it leaves out what the construction sector must ask about the timber it builds with why technological carbon capture won’t save us — but forests already are “They’re not forests, they’re really just crops.” Paul Koberstein Why this conversation matters This episode is about far more than trees. It is about power, extraction, communication and what we choose to value. Koberstein’s work asks a direct question: if we protect wetlands and coral reefs as critical natural systems, why not t...

“I grew up with my parents telling me stories about the ancient Persian civilisation… and I created this huge passion for ancient civilisations.” Moein Nodehi Moein Nodehi Constructive Voices Podcast Cover He was born in the middle of war. As conflict tore through Iran, Moein Nodehi’s family fled in search of safety, eventually ending up in an immigration camp in Sweden. But even in those uncertain early years, another world was being built inside him. His parents kept hope alive by telling stories of ancient Persia — its gardens, palaces, civic systems and extraordinary buildings. Those stories stayed with him. So did the contrast he later witnessed when he returned to Iran as a boy: the visible scars of war set alongside the brilliance of ancient architecture. That collision of destruction and civilisation shaped him. It made him question how we build, why we build, and what kind of world our buildings are really creating. “What happened to me in the pyramids was deeper than what I can really explain with words.” Moein Nodehi Biotonomy's visual of green walls Years later, that questioning would take him from engineering school to major construction projects in Dubai, and then far beyond the mainstream industry altogether. Disillusioned by what he saw — buildings celebrated as symbols of innovation while human and environmental costs were ignored — Moein chose a different route. He walked away, travelled widely, learned from grassroots projects around the world, and eventually founded Biotonomy: a company focused on nature-based architecture that treats buildings as living systems rather than machines. “I was really obsessed about how we are building our buildings, our cities, and really our civilisation.” Moein Nodehi In this episode of Constructive Voices, Jackie De Burca speaks with Moein about exile, ancient wisdom, modern cities, water, heat, resilience, and why nature may hold many of the answers we’ve forgotten. Moein Nodehi Biotonomy aerial view of green roofs “The design decisions that we take for our cities, for our buildings, have a direct impact on our brain waves and our wellbeing.” Moein Nodehi In this episode Jackie and Moein explore how buildings can work with nature rather than against it — and why that shift matters not just for carbon and climate, but for 

What if “healthy ageing” isn’t just about genes, diet, or healthcare — but also about the streets you navigate, the air you breathe, the noise you sleep through, and the buildings you spend 90% of your life inside? “This conversation makes the case for a shift: from sustainability as a materials-and-energy conversation, to neurosustainability — designing environments that protect sleep, reduce stress load, support movement, and build cognitive resilience across the lifespan.” Jackie De Burca Host: Mohamed Hesham Khalil – Creator of the Neurosustainability theory, architect and neuroscience researcher, and a PhD candidate at the University of Cambridge. Guest: Professor Agustín Ibáñez — Director of Global Research Networks at the Global Brain Health Institute (Trinity College Dublin) and Scientific Director of the Latin American Brain Health Institute Guest: Burcin Ikiz — Neuroscientist and brain health advocate working at the intersection of climate, equity, and brain outcomes Podcast cover Brain health isn’t only personal. It’s environmental. And the places we live, move, and work in can either build resilience — or quietly chip away at it. “The built environment… is the space where we most of the time live, move, think and also thrive or become sick.” — Professor Agustín Ibáñez In the third part of this mini-series about neurosustainability, Cambridge scholarship student, Mohamed Hesham Khalil sits down with Professor Agustín Ibáñez and Burcin Ikiz to connect the dots between climate, inequality, urban design, and the ageing brain. They unpack the exposome and zoom into the built environment as the missing middle layer we can actually change. “Scientists sometimes we use strange words for simple things.” — Professor Agustín Ibáñez What is the exposome? The exposome is the full set of environmental influences (physical, social, and economic) that shape our health and behaviour over time — and why the built environment is the missing “mesoscale” link between global forces (like climate change and inequality) and individual brain outcomes (like cognition, dementia risk, and mental health). “I always see that the built environment itself maybe hasn’t been given the same attention… because… people spend around 90 percent of time indoors.” Mohamed Hesham Khalil Th...

Neuro-Sustainability: Designing Places Where Brains Can Thrive What if sustainability wasn’t only about carbon, materials, and energy — but also about the human brain? In this second episode of the mini-series about neuro-sustainability, neuroscience and architecture meet in a conversation that feels both urgent and surprisingly practical. We investigate the work of Cambridge scholarship student, Mohamed Hesham Khalil, which we believe should be integrated into planning and architecture around the world. “We can change diet, can change habits, but we cannot change a built environment. It’s built once and it lasts for tens of years.” Mohamed Hesham Khalil In this episode, he is joined by Burçin Ikiz, who brings a climate-and-health lens to brain wellbeing across the lifespan. Mohamed Hesham Khalil brings a design-and-research lens focused on environmental enrichment — and what our homes, streets, workplaces, and neighbourhoods are doing to us every day, whether we notice it or not. This is not a theoretical chat. It’s about how we design environments that help brains thrive — especially as heat, pollution, and chronic stress become part of daily life for millions. Why this episode about neuro-sustainability matters We like to think of brain health as something personal: sleep, diet, exercise, mindset. But the built environment is a long-term exposure — and it’s stubbornly permanent. If your surroundings make movement hard, keep you indoors, overwhelm your senses, trap heat, or load the air with pollution — you don’t just “feel it.” Your brain does too. What you’ll learn 1) What “environmental enrichment” means in the real world This conversation translates neuroscience into design language: environments that support movement, stimulation, connection, and recovery. “Don’t use it, you lose it. Just kind of like our muscles in our bodies.” Burçin Ikiz 2) The indoor reality we rarely talk about If buildings are designed mainly for convenience and comfort, what happens to stimulation, mobility, and everyday brain engagement? “When we spend like around 90 percent of time indoors… almost no chance for cognitive stimulation or physical activity through the building…” Mohamed Hesham Khalil 3) Heat, buildings, and brain function As the climate warms, poorly adapted buildings become neurological stressors — not just uncomfortable boxes. “If most of our buildings… have not been created for this increasingly warming world, it can be very, very hot indoors and that can really affect our brains.” Burçin Iki...