Getting My Dog On
OILS WELL THAT ENDS WELL: I’m flat-out jealous. Not only does Mike Brown, the CEO and reigning ¼ber boss of the sprawling county bureaucracy, manage to walk on water, he doesn’t even get his feet wet. It just ain’t fair.
OILS WELL THAT ENDS WELL: I’m flat-out jealous. Not only does Mike Brown, the CEO and reigning ¼ber boss of the sprawling county bureaucracy, manage to walk on water, he doesn’t even get his feet wet. It just ain’t fair.
I’ll admit it: There’s nothing particularly artistic about reality TV. Granted, television itself isn’t exactly the most sophisticated medium. But despite its appeal to the masses, there’s almost always some level of artistic content. In dramas, you usually get some genuine character development.
Don your tightest duds and head to the Museum of Art tonight, June 21, for the next installment of Nights. This time, ancient Egypt is the focus, so prepare for headdresses, Cleopatra portraits, a tarot tent, and immortality vodka drinks.
‘We feel like we have been dealt with like the Duke lacrosse team.’
Thomas Zika’s pictures of bathers currently on view at Edward Cella are an extension of the direction Cella took in the recent Davis Birks show, toward objects that read as though they belong to traditional genres-painting, photography-but on closer inspection, reveal that they have been crafted in ways that significantly complicate the categories.
My mother taught me to say please and thank you. She was all about pleasing and its byproduct, pleasure. Mary loved fun and a party. And she spoke simply and directly, so I’m not going to use any big words to praise her, for the simple chords will resonate.
Austin Ford will be practicing moves on his board next month, as might be expected of a 15-year-old who lives in Santa Barbara near the beach and started surfing at the age of six. But there will be no waves for Ford to ride. He will be at Mount Hood, Oregon, sliding crazily on a snowboard atop a series of rails in an event known as the Bonfire Pipe to Pipe.
When life goes south, why do some grin and bear it and emerge with greater wisdom, while others scream for their mommies as they are being led away?
When Norah Jones takes the stage this Friday at the Santa Barbara Bowl, latecomers may well have missed the highlight of the evening. Although Jones has taken the world by storm with her easy vocals and lilting melodies, opener M. Ward has a few tricks up his sleeve, too-and maybe some fancier ones, at that.
Nothing says summer quite like theater under the stars, and there are a number of opportunities to experience drama al fresco in the next few months. PCPA will bring us a full summer season in the beautiful Solvang Theatre, including gems from Sondheim, Wilde, and Cole Porter, and the De la Guerra courtyard will resound with laughter when Shakespeare Santa Barbara puts on The Comedy of Errors.