Big feelings hit us all. Younger populations—or those who haven’t yet developed their own language of expression—outsource angst through external means. That’s where homemade haircuts, studded belts, and musicians like The Cure, Elliott Smith, or Phoebe Bridgers come around. In San Diego, though, there’s a nonprofit that gives youth a way to feel not only heard, but also understood, through photography and digital storytelling.
Outside The Lens’ mission is to amplify the voices of systemically marginalized young people and help them develop the confidence (and artistry) to tell their stories and shape their communities. OTL just celebrated its 25th anniversary earlier this year with dual exhibitions of student work at San Diego Central Library and Museum of Contemporary of Art San Diego. Since 2001, more than 30,000 students have completed programs at OTL, getting their hands on industry-respected DSLR cameras (no shade to iPhone photographers), editing files and images with Adobe Creative Suite, and recording podcasts. Participants explore their worlds through the lens and on the mic.
“Our biggest opportunity, and what’s really needed, is to bridge the understanding between the youth and their communities and how people are seeing what youth are going through right now,” says OTL Executive Director Sarah Beckman.
OTL’s participants, Beckman explains, are young people navigating systems that never gave them access to the tools and mentorship that inspire creative expression, financial mobility, and civic engagement. The nonprofit offers support—in the form of meals, transportation, and healing-centered educators—and a creative outlet for exploring and coping with those challenges.
OTL’s in-school programs meet California core standards for arts and partners with at least 37 schools and community sites throughout San Diego, including the Monarch School in Barrio Logan, East County Community School in El Cajon, and Creative Performing and Media Arts School in Clairemont Mesa. The nonprofit doesn’t just work within the school system. Its Media Makers program invites young adults with intellectual and developmental disabilities to express their place and purpose in the world through film, photography, animation, design, and entrepreneurship.
“We’re always asking the question, and we’re engaging youth in our civic discussions [of], ‘How can we make this city somewhere youth want to be?’” Beckman says. “‘How can we make San Diego somewhere for young people to build a future?’”
This year OTL’s annual Voice Out celebration event spotlighted student work that hung on gallery walls beside “Giants,” the Dean Collection at MCASD. The Voice Out contest is open to all San Diego youth ages 8 to 25; all submissions are published in a catalogue and displayed in a public exhibition. These are some of the students’ works, and their words, from the past three years of Voice Out.
Lines and Light Within Structure
“I wonder how the architect decided to connect the beams [at Del Norte High School] by creating repetition. Without color [in the photo], the structure becomes the focus of the image.” –Monroe S., 15
The Quiet In Between
“Every day, time slips forward, whether we notice it or not, and life can feel overwhelming in its constant motion. In this long-exposure photograph, the blurred train rushes past, symbolizing the speed of life, while the still subject remains grounded and aware. It’s easy to become tangled in society’s expectations: what to wear, what grades to earn, what future to chase. In that rush, we forget to pause. The stillness in this image becomes a breath, a moment of reflection. Through it, I hope to show that wonder lives in slowing down, in watching the world blur while choosing, even briefly, to stand still.” –Leo N., 15
Enough
“Teenagers constantly wonder if they will ever be enough. I wrote words on the mirror that might represent what a teenager thinks about when it comes to being ‘enough’ for the people around them. They might wonder if they are pretty, smart, or good enough. I wanted to bring attention to what thoughts teenagers struggle with in everyday life.” –Illiana I., 16
Go Skate Day
“I took this picture during Go Skate Day in 2023 or 2024 I think … but who cares? It’s sick! Keep riding!” –Danny I., 18
Never Let Go
“This was taken at an all-women’s retreat in the mountains to heal inner trauma, at the end of the trip where we all hugged each other and healed. My mother is the one being hugged and one of her friends is embracing her. Place is somewhere you belong, somewhere you feel comfortable in, and somewhere you can be yourself. I believe womanhood and friendship is not only a place but home.” –Michelle G., 16
If magazines are like the adultier eldest daughters who know exactly how much anarchy they can get away with, zines are the far less predictable younger siblings going on whim and instinct. Those who draw on the walls around the house, DIY their own piercings, and experiment with different emo/straight-edge/back to emo phases (or not-phases). Boundaries and routines are what zines were created to rail against.
Walk into Verbatim Books’ zine corner, and this rebellion is immediately clear. Zines have no singular form, no clean category or definition. Vintage magazine scraps are collaged into new meaning alongside mini fandom zines. Single sheets of plain white printer paper are covered in nothing but black ballpoint pen. Repurposed hardback book covers are folded into something entirely new. Some are duct-taped together, others stapled. Some glossy, others matte. There are guides to anything and everything, comic panels, photography, hand-drawn cartoons, poetry, recipes, diaries, and ramblings that only make sense to the person who made them—and that’s on purpose.
Zines are creative magic. And with no rules, they’re incredibly accessible. Anyone can zine and have a voice, regardless of artistic training or work life experience.
You are your own Anna Wintour, Graydon Carter, Ruth Whitney.
San Diego–based zine creator Lyssette Williams specializes in mini zines—often limited to eight pages, they’re meditations in abbreviation. Outlining, thumbnailing, and revision all move quickly from idea to page. Larger projects, including Williams’ long-form graphic novel thesis, move at a slower pace. For those, she often returns to pen and ink, a choice that resists the over-editability of digital work.
Raised by a single mother and navigating mixed-race identity in a predominantly white town, she finds a home for processing it all in zines. Her work deals in identity, belonging, self-definition, and punk-rock childhood. But it isn’t always heavy; Williams creates a mini duck-themed zine called Backyard Duck Propaganda that’s hard not to love. “When I create, I think about what would have helped me find the words back then, what my younger self would’ve needed,” Williams says. “[Zines] put the tools in your hands and democratize art. They’re translations of memories and identities.”
Courtesy of Lyssette Williams
For Williams, a big reason she keeps creating is being surrounded by other creatives—a scene that extends across the border. She points to Verbatim and Comicbook Artists of San Diego, plus events like Zine Fest (October 17–18 this year at Woo in Barrio Logan) and Black Comix Day at the WorldBeat Cultural Center.
Zines have always been a road for subcultures. During the Harlem Renaissance, Black creatives like Langston Hughes and Zora Neale Hurston self-published one issue of Fire!!, which inspired other Black authors. In the 1930s, zines (then called fanzines) were hubs for sci-fi nerds to write fanfiction, address the fandom, and create new characters. Superman actually made his public debut in a fanzine called Science Fiction (he was originally cast as a villain with a fully receded hairline). A couple decades later, zines about feminism and riot grrrl became subculture de rigueur.
The internet nearly killed zines, of course. But now, people tired of the algorithm’s firehose are finding comfort and renewed inspiration in analog. Zines, a salve for digital fatigue.
Courtesy of Duophobia
A giant figure in San Diego zine culture is Burn All Books. Founded by Amanda and Nick Bernal, BAB started as a risograph (digital screen printing) studio and turned into one of those places that keeps expanding the whole scene around it, even forming its own archive group, SCANNNERS. Since opening in January 2023, it has published over 35 works and collaborated with more than 100 artists, writers, and zinesters.
For Duophobia, the pseudonym for local twin sisters Alora and Kiani Dotson (affectionately known as the “possum twins”), zines make room for experimentation and play that doesn’t fit anywhere else. Room for eclectic cartoons and dirty jokes. For sticker-covered sketchbooks.
It’s that same brand of nostalgia you might feel when, say, you walk past the carcass of an abandoned mall and see a faded cartoon mural. Their work lives somewhere between childhood and adulthood, where being unserious is taken very, very seriously.
“We’re born and raised in San Diego, and the community of artists here is a main reason we started publishing,” Kiani Dotson says. “There are people here like Trixxie Land who run open art gatherings. Show up, and you’re part of it.”
Land, a zinester herself (she made 250 single-page zines during 2020’s lockdown), is all about storytelling over hierarchy. Art shouldn’t be about gatekeeping or intimidation, she says. So she holds open-invite arts shows at Subterranean Coffee.
Courtesy of Lyssette Williams
Duophobia regularly share their work at local galleries like Subterranean, filling that lowbrow space with pieces that answer: “What would’ve made us laugh as kids?” Children are often the first to pick up their zines, unfolding them in every direction while parents briefly panic at the impulsive destruction. The twins always step in. “No, no, it’s okay,” they say, before showing how one sheet of paper folds into an entire little book. “It’s like magic.” More often than not, the kids leave with a tiny zine tucked under a tiny arm, future San Diego zinesters in the making.
When asked what a zine really is, Alora Dotson’s response was simple: “It’s anything. Literally anything. The more genuine you are, the more people are going to hear what you have to say. Your voice matters, even if it’s just a silly joke or story. People want to hear about it.”
Not a perfect definition? Exactly. Zines inherently resist categories. Want to turn a single playing card into a storybook? Do it. What about your favorite graffiti artist’s signature tag at Prince Memorial Skatepark? Turn it into a zine.
Isabella Dallas is a freelance writer for San Diego Magazine and the Arts and Culture Editor at The Daily Aztec in her final year at San Diego State University. She previously worked as an editorial intern for SDM, but when she’s not writing, you can find her trying the best coffee spots in SD, devouring the latest rom-coms, and indulging in anything and everything pop culture.
Arts District Liberty Station officially became one of the state’s designated cultural districts, joining a list reserved for places with thriving creative communities. Considering the campus is home to more than 100 galleries, artist studios, museums, and arts organizations—not to mention The Joan, the 42,000-square-foot performance center housing Cygnet Theatre—it was only a matter of time until the district got its flowers.
Best Deterrent of Public Vandalism
Vision Culture Foundation
If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em. The National City Public Works building has been a target of graffiti artists for years, only to be constantly painted over (and the cycle restarts). Now, it’s working with the local artists from Vision Culture Foundation to create intentional public murals. A win-win in our book.
One of the biggest questions this year is who will show up for San Diego arts and culture—so a Best Of nod goes to a nonprofit that’s been doing it for years. Founded by longtime arts advocate Susanna Peredo Swap, Vanguard Culture has staged events for creatives, told their stories, and just created an SD ARTS Pass—a single ticket that gets you access to 39 creative spots.
Photo credit: Carly Topazio
Best Way to Overcome Your Fear of Ghosts
The Rosin Box Project
Ballet’s already got a sort of otherworldly thing going for it, with people morphing into 90-degree angles and defying gravity with each pirouette. The Rosin Box Project feels like a raw, creative new force in the classic art form, though—especially with its annual Ghost Light Masquerade. It’s a dance of eerie spirits that makes you second-guess what’s real and what’s not.
Best Music Venue That Also Sells Hot Dogs
Gallagher Square
Once upon a time, Gallagher Square was just a grassy knoll behind the outfield wall at Petco Park. Now, it’s a concert venue, playground, play ball field, dog park, and unofficial home for those who prefer the vibe of baseball more than the actual game. Big-time performers are showing up: Ms. Lauryn Hill, Cypress Hill, and Peach Pit.
Best Local Canvas
Casa Casillas
Casa Casillas has filled a long-standing gap in Chula Vista’s art scene. Open since last August, the space gives local artists a dedicated venue to display their work and visitors a chance to explore the neighborhood’s vibrant art. Two rotating resident artists always keep the space moving, so it rarely looks the same twice.
Courtesy of Alley Cat Art Fest
Best Place to Say “I Think It’s About Capitalism”
Alley Cat Art Fest
El Cajon translates to “the box” in Spanish—a nod to the city’s surrounding hills—but Alley Cat Art Fest (previously called Artivál) doesn’t stay inside it. As the first arts festival in East County, it celebrates local galleries, sculpture, live music, and food trucks—the whole nine.
Best On-Two-Feet Art Tour
Barrio Art Crawl
Every second Saturday, Barrio Logan turns into a choose-your-own-adventure with the Barrio Art Crawl, a free self-guided art tour through galleries, museums, and murals, with street food and music filling in the gaps. Barrio is one of the city’s most thriving arts neighborhoods, and it’s worth getting a bit lost in.
Leave it to The Old Globe to give the local theater scene some Hollywood glamour. Katie Holmes led the premiere of Henrik Ibsen’s Hedda Gabler this past spring, turning the classic Norwegian play into one of the most buzzed-about theater productions of the year.
Siblings make better music. That’s the hot take, and there’s some logic and science behind it. The Bee Gees, Jackson 5, Billie Eilish and Finneas, AC/DC, Van Halen, The Allman Brothers—heck, even the Hanson brothers, why not? Beyond just a shared sense of taste and nonverbal communication developed over decades of living and evolving together, there’s a thing called “blood harmony.” The genetically similar throat cavities, vocal cords, speech patterns, and resonant bone structures all blend each unique voice into a more homophonic sound than what comes out of two non-related singers.
Those throat cavities are working wonders for emerging San Diego band We the Commas—three brothers (from oldest to youngest) Lenny, Jordon, and Cam Comma.
Raised in Vista and Carlsbad, the family opted out of cable TV (video games got a pass). Without binge-watching to fill bored hours, the trio turned to music. Guitar Hero led to GarageBand and finally to live instruments—guitars for Lenny and Cam, drum set for Jordon. In their sound, the influence of Stevie Wonder, Erykah Badu, The Who, and Dave Matthews Band is obvious, and so is surf culture, specifically that laid-back chill of North County surf culture.
“We’re like the Black Beach Boys,” Cam says. (Note: Three of the five founding members of the Beach Boys were siblings—the theory gets stronger.)
Their debut EP pretty clearly lays out how they see their sound—titled SARB, an acronym for Surf Alternative R&B. That resonates in the song “Sherry,” with its easy-listening, windows-down-on-the-101 vibe. It also works in the louder, surf-punkier “Pissed Off.” Despite some advances in reducing core stereotyping tendencies, people still tend to autofill Black musicians into rap and R&B. The Comma brothers immediately circumvent that by declaring themselves out the gates.
“SARB makes it so [listeners are] open to all of the things that we want to do,” Lenny says. “From there, you can put a label on whatever you think it sounds like.”
Courtesy of We the Commas
People—and musicians further up the stream—are taking note. In 2023, they co-wrote the song “I Keep Fallin’” with Eric Cannata, guitarist for multi-platinum SoCal band Young the Giant. In early 2024, they were tapped to open the national tour of Brooklyn’s jazz-pop heroes, Sammy Rae & The Friends. Comedian Gabriel “Fluffy” Iglesias invited them to warm up his show at Pechanga a couple months later.
“We really believe genuinely, with our whole hearts, minds and souls, that this is going to work the way that we think it’s going to,” Cam says, grinning ear to ear.
Currently, the Commas live together in Vista, and the dream, wholeheartedly, is more alive than ever. They’ve put out two dozen singles and a trio of EPs: SARB (2020), Old School Love (2021), and Aeroplane (2024); this year alone brought the release of three new singles, including “Let Me,” a silky-smooth entry in their growing collection of love songs.
“We fully realized the magic is in all of us together,” Lenny says. “We know that this doesn’t happen without each person, and we have respect for each other because we need each other.”
As they grow as brothers and as a band, the Commas try to always remember what unified them in the first place.
Ryan Hardison is a freelance arts and entertainment writer and recent graduate of San Diego State. When he's not staring at his laptop, he's likely eating an adobada burrito or getting sunburnt at the beach.
A perfectly designed home rarely happens by accident. Those kitchens that feel effortless and rooms that seem to tell a story the second you walk in? They’re usually the work of someone who knows exactly what they’re doing.
It’s knowing which ideas will actually work, which materials will hold up over time, and how to turn a collection of choices into a space that feels intentional. That’s where a professional interior designer comes in.
For the American Society of Interior Designers (ASID) California San Diego Chapter, the goal is to help people see interior design as more than just the finished look. Behind every well-designed space is a process built on technical expertise. Designers are educated in everything from professional software and construction details to building codes, space planning, materials, and functionality.
Courtesy of ASID
“People don’t always realize how much goes on behind the scenes,” Kirsten Recce , current president of the ASID California San Diego Chapter, says. “Our designers are not just doing furniture placement and color selection and picking out new fluffy pillows. That’s not what they’re trained for.”
ASID members bring formal education, continued learning, and industry knowledge to their projects, helping create spaces that are not only beautiful, but designed to work. A paint color that changes completely depending on the lighting. A material that looks beautiful in a showroom but doesn’t make sense for everyday life. A layout that photographs well but doesn’t function for the people living there. These are the details where professional guidance can make all the difference.
Still, one of the biggest misconceptions about hiring an interior designer is that it’s reserved for massive renovations, luxury homes, or people who already know exactly what they want. The process can feel intimidating. Where do you begin? Is a designer worth the investment? What if you only need help with one room?
ASID’s answer: start with one hour.
ASID’s Spruce Up events break down one of the biggest barriers between homeowners and professional design: knowing where to begin. Held twice a year, the community program gives homeowners the chance to work directly with an ASID designer through a one-hour, $125 consultation in their own home. Whether you’re looking for advice on furniture placement, window treatments, kitchen and bath updates, remodeling ideas, vacation rentals, color selections or something else entirely, the upcoming September 2026 event offers an approachable way to get expert guidance before committing to a full project. Signups are open through Sept. 7, with consultations taking place Sept. 21 through Oct. 31. Proceeds benefit ASID San Diego’s educational and community programs. Register here!
Courtesy of ASID
“It’s a great opportunity for people who are in that exploratory phase,” Recce says. “Maybe they’re not sure they want to hire an interior designer yet, or they think it sounds daunting or expensive. This gives them a chance to discover what working with a designer is actually like.”
Design is personal. A good designer isn’t just creating a beautiful room; they’re helping create a space that fits the way someone lives.
“We’re a resource to all of San Diego County,” Recce says. “It doesn’t cost anything to pick up the phone and call and ask. We’ll answer.”
How Scrojo Became One of Rock’s Most Prolific Poster Artists
The San Diego designer has created more than 3,000 concert posters over nearly 40 years for artists including the Rolling Stones and the Red Hot Chili Peppers
When he was in high school, he and his friends were trying to come up with the perfect name for their punk band that would encapsulate all their personas. Nicaragua. The Freds.
One of his friends said he was going to go by Jimmy Stacks and called it “the perfect rock and roll name.” Their names changed so much that Haskett erupted: “Fine, I’m f—ing Scrotum Joe, the true defender of the Open West.”
Their response: Wow, that’s a great name.
As a teenager, he drew chalkboards for Del Mar’s Pannikin coffee shop and would design T-shirts for surf/skate brand Life’s a Beach. He signed the shirts with his moniker, but even in punk rebellion, who wants a shirt with the words Scrotum Joe on it? “They just cut out the ‘t-u-m,’ and the next thing you know, a client referred to me as that, and it stuck,” he says.
Courtesy of Scrojo
Scrojo could have been part of a band as iconic as The Misfits—had he been able to learn the famously cumbersome bassline to The Kingsmen’s “Louie Louie.” Becoming one of the most renowned concert poster designers—someone who quite literally designed the cover of Art of Modern Rock: The Poster Explosion—is a pretty good Plan B.
“To my knowledge, he’s done more rock posters than anybody else alive,” says Dennis King, whose D. King Gallery in Berkeley, California, serves as one of the largest private rock poster collections in the world. “He’s the hardest-working guy in the poster business.”
King not only co-authored the sequel to music historian Paul Grushkin’s The Art of Rock, but he also handles distribution and sales for all of Scrojo’s work. That’s more than 3,000 different posters over nearly 40 years. (That’s over one poster each week. For four decades straight.)
For anything from boxing matches to rodeos, posters have long been used as promotional items. Toulouse-Lautrec’s famous lithographs advertised Moulin Rouge in the late 1800s. Around the same time, Hatch Show Print in Nashville was making handbills for the Grand Ole Opry.
“I propose this: Cave paintings are the first poster art,” Scrojo says.
Courtesy of Scrojo
Rock and roll posters took off in the 1960s, when the hippie counterculture era replaced conformity and suburbia. Artists like Jimi Hendrix and the Grateful Dead used their vibrant, psychedelic prints as a form of rebellion from the mainstream. Posters were promotional, commemorative, collectible, and especially expressive.
If the name Scrojo is any indication, he doesn’t shy away from imagery that toes the line of being too provocative. He focused more on what inspired him instead of trying to be offensive for the sake of getting attention.
“Didn’t want to show it to my grandmother, but my parents were fine with it,” Scrojo says with a laugh.
“We’ve had to ask him to put a Band-Aid over a nipple every now and then,” says Chris Goldsmith, president of Belly Up Tavern in Solana Beach, where Scrojo started out and hundreds of his posters currently line the walls.
Scrojo spent six weeks at Otis College of Art and Design for a summer semester before drugs, alcohol, and a self-described lack of discipline prevented him from enrolling full time. Still, he taught himself concepts like text hierarchy and later found his niche at the Belly Up and in the surfing and skating world, working with brands like Quiksilver, Rip Curl, Scorpion Bay, and DGK.
His first concert poster was for North County band Borracho y Loco, of which Goldsmith was bass guitarist. Scrojo drew an abstract version of the Belly Up’s iconic shark with colorful calypso and tiki themes.
Early on, he would craft using a pencil, pen, non-reproduction blue pencil, X-Acto knife, rubber knife, and proportion scale to create each poster, and the finished product could take a week or even longer.
Courtesy of Scrojo
“I recommend every artist coming up to do that for like six weeks,” Scrojo says. “It forces you to think about every design decision as you’re going along.”
He has since mastered vector imagery through Adobe Illustrator to the point where, depending on the level of detail needed, he could finish two projects in a day. Still, he fills sketchbook after sketchbook to blueprint.
“I liked his line in particular, and he knows how to draw, which a lot of people don’t really know how to do these days,” King says.
Scrojo would research what each musician’s merchandise looks like to get a feel for each artist’s tone and voice. Once he has his central image in mind, he focuses on what and where to place the text.
He doesn’t have one specific style, ranging his talents from art deco to psychedelic and everything in between (and outside the lines). Want a pop surrealist comic book cartoon devil with splattered paint textures, halftone dot patterns, and pure chaos? Red Hot Chili Peppers, February 1986. Want a minimalist graphic portrait with bold strokes and graffiti text? P!nk, October 2023. Want a carnival sideshow style piece with a tasteful caricature of Jeff Bridges? The Big Lebowski, August 2011.
Scrojo calls himself a jack of all trades because he can create posters for all music genres. King calls him a chameleon for his ability to adapt his voice to new eras.
Courtesy of Scrojo
“The variety of his skillset makes it possible for us to put 50 of his posters on a wall next to each other and have it look compelling, not just a bunch of the same thing over and over,” Goldsmith says.
Some of Scrojo’s favorite posters are when he feels a personal connection to the artist or the album. He has a vivid memory as a child of being trapped in a closet filled with marijuana leaves while playing hide and seek and staring at Jimmy Cliff’s “The Harder They Come” LP. “For whatever reason, as a kid, that sparked a desire to do graphic design,” Scrojo says.
Fast forward to February 2012, Cliff is performing at Belly Up. Scrojo decided to modify Cliff’s original album cover from rainbow gradient fills to classic reggae psychedelia while preserving Cliff’s striped pants and bold hat. Cliff’s manager called him and said they wanted to use it for the rest of their tour.
“We always get artists requesting that he does their posters,” Goldsmith says. “A lot of artists don’t want venues to go all rogue because they want to control how they’re being presented. With him, they’re like, ‘Let him go nuts.’”
Matt Eisenberg is an award-winning writer and photographer based in San Diego. A former ESPN editor, his work has also been published by CNN, Bleacher Report and the New York Daily News.
Summer has officially kicked off, and San Diego is celebrating the sunny season with a myriad of fun events. From San Diego Pride week and a fairytale performance at Civic Theatre to a Santigold concert and Comic-Con, there are dozens of opportunities to make memories worth adding to your scrapbook. Here are all the best things to do in San Diego this July:
Divine inspirations, operatic ballads, and symphonic pop production elevate Rosalía’s Lux to heavenly levels. Hear angelic vocals ascend—in up to 13 languages—during her performance at Pechanga Arena.
Enjoy a night of feel-good indie rock and sing-along anthems at the Cal Coast Credit Union Open Air Theatre courtesy of Young the Giant and special guest Cold War Kids.
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Santigold collects genres like gold stars: musical accouterments that brighten her uniquely alternative sound. See her live in concert with dancehall producer Troy Baker Sound at Humphreys Concerts by the Bay.
Two male government workers pursue a secret romance amid the Lavender Scare in the San Diego Opera’s production of “Fellow Travelers” at the Balboa Theatre.
Audrey Hepburn. Marlon Brando. Salvador Dalí. What do these icons have in common? Each was the enigmatic focus of a Cecil Beaton portrait. Step inside Cecil Beaton’s Fashionable World, an alluring showcase of 20th-century style at San Diego Museum of Art.
Courtesy of San Diego Pride
More Fun Things to Do in San Diego This Month
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The Little Italy Mercato will trade morning rays for golden-hour glow through its free Summer Sera, an expansion of the neighborhood’s farmers market with live music, artisanal finds, and a fetching amount of pet activities.
11–19
San Diego Pride week starts with a Dyke March and ends with the two-day “Pride Shines On” festival. The days in between? Run a 5K, march in the parade, visit the rainbow-lit St. Paul’s Episcopal Cathedral, and more.
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Dress up for a Mediterranean-themed tea time at the Estancia La Jolla, a laid-back yet refined afternoon planned for the resort’s monthly Tea in the Garden series.
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Nerd culture’s biggest gathering returns to the Convention Center. San Diego Comic-Con welcomes fans of everything from comic book cinema to ultra-rare collectibles for panels, exhibits, sneak peeks, and much more.
Ryan Hardison is a freelance arts and entertainment writer and recent graduate of San Diego State. When he's not staring at his laptop, he's likely eating an adobada burrito or getting sunburnt at the beach.
Nearly everyone experiences a sleepless night once in a while. But for those with a circadian sleep disorder, being well-rested can feel out of reach. A circadian sleep disorder occurs when a person’s internal clock doesn’t align with their desired or socially required sleep schedule. This can significantly impact quality of life, mental health and physical well-being. Scripps Circadian Sleep Disorders Clinic, launched in 2019, was the first of its kind in the state. Its specialists diagnose and treat conditions like delayed sleep phase disorder, shift work sleep disorder and non-24-hour sleep-wake disorder. Many patients have spent years—or even decade —thinking there was no hope for their sleep behavior. A solution can be life-changing. Read more about the Scripps Circadian Sleep Disorders Clinic here.
For more nutrition, wellness, and healthy living tips, sign up for the San Diego Health newsletter here.
