Mirror, mirror on the … wall, ceiling, roof, post. Artists in a new biennial exhibition have used silver glass to let us experience our natural surroundings — and truly see them — in new contexts.
You can expect that St. Patrick’s Day revelers — wearing glittered-cardboard leprechaun hats with shamrocks, drinking green beer and singing “When Irish Eyes are Smiling” — will fill the sidewalks and bars of downtown’s Gaslamp Quarter this Friday evening. I will be in the Gaslamp neighborhood myself; but I’ll be enjoying the unexpected: standing amid brightly colored and larger-than-life rabbits.
When people have talent, especially one that makes them rich and famous, they can indulge their own egos. And that’s often what they do. After all, they don’t need to put themselves out for the benefit of other people. Celebrities can get along just fine performing and depositing money in the bank.
In business, especially in terms of management, everyone touts the importance of having a strategy and “strategic alliances.” In sports, a head coach, especially at collegiate and major league levels, without a strategy won’t last a season, if that. Most games, especially those for ages 6 and older, involve strategy, especially Go and Chess.
It’s not every day that you see a 7-foot nutcracker. In fact, the very thought is a bit frightening. But this time of year, the figure that inspired Tchaikovsky to write a ballet can be found in abundance — perhaps never more so than at Adelaide’s in La Jolla.
If not for the fact that it was The Saturday Night Before Halloween, I might have been taken aback seeing Edward Scissorhands in line for a cocktail at Copley Symphony Hall.
In the “now why didn’t I think of that?” department comes this bit of information: Homeowners redoing their kitchen sent their old cabinetry to a friend’s home for a “garage update.”
From my apartment balcony, I watch the hunters in the sky and my thoughts turn to, “Hide, bunnies!” In the predawn hours when I’m making my way from my apartment to the fitness center, I see the cotton-tailed animals scampering back to their natural habitat. So I know they are there, as do the raptors circling the canyon slope in the daylight hours. I’m sure the birds are looking for rodents and reptiles as well, but I’ve only seen bunny rabbits — and they’re so cute.
When I learned that The Museum at California Center for the Arts in Escondido would be presenting an exhibition of encaustic paintings, I recalled my quick-and-small experience with making a work of art with hot beeswax a couple of years ago at the Laguna Design Center in Laguna Niguel, where an encaustic artist had set up an interactive demonstration table.
In a popularity contest among the 12 months of the year, September apparently would garner the most votes. Certainly frazzled parents eager to see their children back in school would cast their ballots in favor of the 30 days between August and October. Virgos and Libras (though not all of them) would probably lobby for declaring the entire ninth month a national holiday in their conglomerate honor. But I have reason to believe that there’s a much deeper affection for September in San Diego.
Felix quickly discerned that I had cheated on him during my weekend in Palm Springs. He didn’t say anything, but I could see it in his eyes: “You’ve been with another flamingo!” In fact, I spent time with an entire flock.
When I walk among displays of quality art, whether at a gallery, museum or art fair, the engagement I experience is enough to satisfy my soul and send me home feeling inspired. However, I recognize that many people — especially in this day and age of Pokémon Go — want another layer of interactivity.
Though I still recall the pain of having my arm run over by a golf cart, I was nevertheless enticed by the opportunity to put myself into a somewhat related sporting challenge.
When attending a PBS event at The Lot in La Jolla this past April, I spied Claudia Sandoval a few gatherings of people away. She happened to be looking my direction, and when I pointed to her and smiled, she returned a similar look of delighted recognition and immediately walked over.
When I was searching for something to do after a luncheon in Oceanside over the weekend, someone suggested I view the jewelry exhibit at Oceanside Museum of Art.
Though I have recurring nightmares related to leaky roofs (with water-soaked walls “melting” around me) and very little tolerance for submerging my body in frigid surf (have at it, San Diegans), I am, nevertheless, a Pisces.
I typically am not a reader of how-to books, but one that recently landed on my desk did get my attention. It’s titled The Useful Book: 201 Life Skills They Used to Teach in Home Ec and Shop.
After mostly gray May days, I jumped at the opportunity to spend a Saturday outside when the sun finally proved that it had not, as I was beginning to suspect, been expelled from the Milky Way. I considered hiking, but my calendar informed me that Art on Adams was taking place from noon ‘til night.
How had I overlooked Donald Trump’s appearance in San Diego last Friday afternoon? More to the point, why had I decided that May 27 would be a fine time to check out Marina Kitchen’s relatively new wine bar in the Marriott Hotel next to the convention center, where the presidential candidate was holding a rally?
When my sixth-grade classmates were making dresses for their final sewing project, I still was occupied with correctly completing our first assignment of the year: stitching a straight hem on a dishtowel. So when Suzan Peterson, a sewing buff and the person who accompanied me to the San Diego Museum of Art quilt exhibit, said, “This is hard, really hard” while looking at a sunburst-patterned quilt, I figured its difficulty ranked right up there with that of a camel passing through the eye of a needle.