I’d been living in my Allied Gardens home for almost five years and had given up on ever finding a furniture arrangement that made any sense.
My 1,100-square-foot house is identical in layout to many in the neighborhood. Much of Allied Gardens was developed in the 1950s as tract housing. “Built with care and intelligence, the Designs in this New Glittering $50,000,000 Community are for families who are going places,” a brochure from the time advertised. It offered homes with varying layouts named after glamorous cities (Pasadena, Montecito, Newport). And each blueprint divided up the small floor plans into as many tiny rooms with as many doors and hallways as possible, it seems.
I don’t know if my family is “going places” like the brochure promised, unless attempting to raise our son in one of the few remotely affordable neighborhoods in San Diego counts. Nevertheless, we were left trying to figure out how to fit a couch and a few chairs into a 12-by-22-foot living room with three doors—including one that sits right in the middle of the 12-foot wall. We pushed all the furniture into corners and surrendered one entire section of the wall to a giant beanbag chair that became a throne for our very spoiled 20-pound dog.
Then along came Jen Pinto, senior interior designer and design department head at Jackson Design & Remodeling. I told her I was doing a story about how families can make small living spaces as functional as possible and sent her my living room floor plan as an example. She quickly sent back a sketch that was life-changing. She moved our existing furniture around to create an actual space where people could gather and talk, found a spot for an extra table where my son can leave out games and toys, and even kept a (smaller) beanbag for the dog.
I couldn’t believe I’d lived for half a decade in this space and never thought of this arrangement before. And I knew I couldn’t be the only one in San Diego in need of an eye-opening design experience. With the median home price sitting at around $950 million (okay, it’s $950,000, but still), families who are trying to stay in the city are wedging themselves into small abodes built in the 1950s housing boom. They are designed for another era, when the definition of a home was far more modest and the intention wasn’t to create a perfect design but to build tons of residences to house families as quickly as possible.
So, I asked Pinto to develop designs for common layouts in other neighborhoods with small, irregularly shaped homes and to give suggestions for how anyone can make the most of their space.
Courtesy of Jackson Design & Remodeling The Allied Gardens living room was formerly less-than-functional, with lots of open “dead space.”
Allied Gardens
The houses in Allied Gardens are part of a community created by two designers in 1955. “Where California, Ranch, Conventional and Contemporary Home Designs are as Fresh & Colorful as Spring,” the brochure from the time declares.
The intention was for developers to create a range of floor plans families could choose from, explains Jim Groen, senior architect and project director at Jackson Design & Remodeling. “Developers came up with a set of plans that checked the box for the required square footage of what was marketable,” he says. “They probably didn’t concern themselves much with how they were furnished—just as long as they had multiple points of entry.”
Those layouts present quite a challenge for Pinto and other designers to figure out how to place furniture.
The homes have “criss-crossing” circulation, Groen says. Circulation refers to the way people move through various areas of the home, so if it’s “criss-crossed,” that means there’s no open or easy flow to get from one space to another. Good space circulation relies on clear pathways (hallways and doorways that are appropriately wide and free of furniture or obstacles, enabling smooth movement), logical flow (rooms and spaces are arranged so that movement follows in a natural pattern, reducing backtracking or confusion), accessibility, and thoughtful privacy considerations (such as separate routes for visitors so they do not intrude on private spaces like bedrooms).
Courtesy of Jackson Design & Remodeling The new arrangement allows for a clear path of travel from one room to the next and creates a more intimate seating area that encourages conversation.
To design around criss-crossing circulation, Pinto first takes into account how people are going to use the room and what the path of travel would be. For my living room, for instance, she carved out a small spot by the front door where you can enter the room without dodging furniture, making it possible to stroll through one door, past the sitting area, and out the other door. “Essentially, you’re trying to create a free path so you can comfortably and naturally walk through the space,” she explains.
Then she uses furniture placement and rugs to create some separation so the room can serve multiple functions. My living room now has one area for sitting, with a couch and chair catty-corner to each other. And she divided off another space for a table and chairs, which could be used for dining or— as we’ve elected to do—for games and crafts.
Another challenge is making a place for modern tech in these midcentury homes. Layouts from the 1950s weren’t created to center around a TV. Nowadays, people factor their entertainment system into the design. My family doesn’t have a giant television, so we tuck ours into a bookshelf that sits against the wall across from the couch—but those who like to spend their evenings parked in front of an 80-incher have options, too.
“So if the TV is the main activity, how do we arrange the furniture around that so it’s comfortable?” Pinto muses. “I start by looking for a nice big wall where the TV can stand on its own. I know there’s going to be books or furniture around it—it won’t be just the TV. So the furniture has to be arranged in a way that it doesn’t feel awkward or cluttered.”
To easily figure out a setup that works without having to repeatedly move heavy tables or couches around, Pinto suggests using masking tape or paper cutouts to represent major items like furniture or the television so you can visualize and play with different configurations. When you’re ready to start shifting sectionals, arrange the main seating first, placing sofas and chairs in a way that comfortably faces the TV.
Courtesy of Jackson Design & Remodeling Problems with the original blueprint included a too-small kitchen, a too-large dining room, and walls that confined those areas from the rest of the house.
Coronado Cays
Houses along the Coronado Cays were built in 1969, the same year the Coronado Bridge opened. They were marketed as the “first residential marina” in the county and were so popular that potential buyers slept outside of the sales office to buy a home, according to the Coronado Times.
They were designed to be extremely long and narrow, so that as many of them can have views of the ocean as possible. “The wider you made the lots, the less density you could get, so they maximized that,” Groen says.
For the house Jackson Design tackled, the original layout included lots of walls—between the breakfast area and the kitchen and between the kitchen and the living room, which had big windows with ocean vistas. So residential designer David Hall decided to remove the interior wall and add more windows. He also placed an island in the kitchen.
Jackson Design & Remodeling moved and demolished walls to create a more open floor plan.
“That perceptually expands your view and lets you have a better connection to that rear water view,” Groen says. “So, that solution—where we took out that interior wall and created an island as a social gathering place, then connected the kitchen to the formal living space—worked out really well.”
Pinto’s furniture design focuses on the house’s focal points. “The kitchen island was very important—it’s where you gather when you’re making meals,” she says. “The clients also wanted a sit-down area, even if small, and a more open living room for flow. The chairs faced the doors so they could sit and watch the sunset or the water in the morning.”
Courtesy of Jackson Design & Remodeling
South Park
The team also tackled a home in South Park, where most of the residences were built in the 1940s and 1950s. Groen explains that, at that time, a 1,200-square-foot house was considered a normal size for a family of six.
“Everybody seemed to get along just fine in a kitchen that’s postage-stamp size,” he says. “Expectations have changed so much from then to now. They didn’t analyze homes as much as we do now with functionality and people’s experiences. They were just building homes for new folks arriving in California and selling them as fast as they could build them.”
Back then, rooms were typically isolated and independent of each other, as well, Groen adds. “Now, everybody prefers an open plan,” he continues. “And that community happens in the kitchen … [It’s] the social hub of a home.”
Courtesy of Jackson Design & Remodeling The design team solved for this South Park home’s tiny, closed-off kitchen by moving it to the front of the house, where it’s more accessible.
So, for the South Park renovation, the team increased the square footage of each room and connected the spaces instead of isolating them.
“We moved the kitchen closer to the front door for easier grocery unloading,” Pinto says. “It was their main point of access. We added a small island and more counter space to modernize the layout.”
But even if the family didn’t have the budget for a full renovation, there were plenty of more affordable ways to make the diminutive South Park house feel more expansive.
“Just opening it up would help,” Pinto explains. “That door in the kitchen that leads outside made the space hard to reconfigure, so [we would] maybe move it. Removing the wall between the kitchen and family room would make a big difference.”
Courtesy of Jackson Design & Remodeling
General Advice
With so many small and irregularly shaped homes in San Diego, lots of people trying to figure out how to best arrange their spaces—so even if your house doesn’t share a layout with any of these example residences, you can still apply the same approach.
The first step is asking the right questions to analyze the function of each space.
“What do you want it used for?” Groen suggests pondering. “You also want to arrange things so there’s good flow—not putting very public spaces next to very private ones.”
Sometimes, creating that separation can be as simple as moving a doorway down the hall, he adds.
Once the circulation is right, look at the furniture, considering whether it supports how you live and moves people naturally through the space. That’s what Pinto did with my family’s living room, shifting things around to transform it into a place that feels more open and easy to navigate.
Pinto also searches for every opportunity to have multiple functions in the same space, especially in smaller homes. That means furniture often needs to pull double duty.
“Can the island work as a dining space for four?” she says. “Can you build a little desk into the kitchen to double as an office? Thinking about how to make the spaces work for the client’s needs is so important.”
Even something as simple as a storage ottoman or a fold-down desk can make a tiny room feel larger.
But, Groen adds, good design isn’t just about maximizing square footage—it’s about personalizing every corner. “We can’t just design based on what we would want,” he says. “We have to ask intimate questions about how the client lives and what a home means to them.”
That’s certainly been true of my living room. It really has become a more enjoyable space to spend time in, and it gives my family the feeling of a little more space—so it’s that much easier to “go places.”
Claire Trageser has been writing for San Diego Magazine for 10 years. She also is a reporter at KPBS and writes for The New York Times, National Geographic, Marie Claire, Elle and Runner's World.
Golf Pro Tina Mickelson gives us an insider's look at Ely Callaway's restricted golf dreamland in Carlsbad
Courtesy of Ely Callaway Performance Center
By Tina Mickelson
“Come test something.”
Those are quite possibly my three favorite words in the English language—all due respect to “I love you” or the highly underrated “you were right.”
I’ve been a PGA Golf Professional since 1994, and yes, full bias disclosure, a Callaway Golf Ambassador for 18 years. One of the bonuses that comes with that combo is access to the Ely Callaway Performance Center—a place so exclusive it gives “velvet rope” vibes.
Originally opened in 2006 as a highly functional (yet not exactly breathtaking) test facility, the ECPC got a serious glow-up in 2018 when Gil Hanse (along with partner Geoff Shackelford) turned it into what can only be described as a fully engineered golf playground. Hanse is no stranger to golf course renovations. In 2024, he completed an extensive redesign of the Omni La Costa North Course in Carlsbad, so it could host the NCAA Division 1 Golf Championships. He also worked on acclaimed courses like Winged Foot, Merion Golf Club, and Oakmont Country Club.
In just two months, it went from a standard test center and R&D lab to a fully dialed-in golf playground.
Courtesy of Ely Callaway Performance Center
What was once purely practical is now intentionally designed to be both precise and inspiring. The targets are staggered with purpose—forcing creative shot-making while also calling you out on your actual distances (no more “that’s my 150-yard club … ish”).
Add a massive hitting area, bunkers and greens that mimic real on-course conditions, a “Himalayas” putting green (named for its roller-coaster undulations), an upgraded indoor putting lab, and a 120-decibel sound system blasting a very golf-appropriate playlist, and suddenly it’s a rare blend of high-performance testing facility and “don’t mind if I stay here all day” energy. Since this isn’t exactly open to the public, SDM asked me to take you behind the curtain.
As the iron gates part, it feels less like arriving at a practice facility and more like being granted backstage access at a rock concert—if the bandmembers were made entirely of launch monitors and perfectly manicured turf.
There are no mats. No guessing. No “I think that one felt good?” Just conditions that mirror exactly what tour players see in competition. Because when you’re testing equipment at this level, accuracy isn’t a bonus—it’s the whole point.
Even the sand matters. Different textures. Different densities. Because bunkers have personalities, too, and they are often unfriendly. And the golf balls? Brand. New. Not the usual “these have seen some things” range balls. New balls mean consistent spin, truer trajectory, and no surprises. The older a golf ball gets—and the more it’s been baked in the sun, scuffed, or generally lived a full and complicated life—the less reliable it becomes. Think of it like this: fresh ball, predictable performance; old range ball, slight chaos with a side of mystery.
I’m escorted to my personal hitting bay—basically a pop-up shaded oasis stocked with enough equipment to make a gear junkie weak in the knees. Shafts in every weight and profile imaginable. Heads lined up like they’re waiting to be drafted by their favorite team.
Courtesy of Ely Callaway Performance Center
Toptracer technology was patiently waiting to track every one of my swings, each shot instantly delivering ball speed, launch, spin, carry distance, and dispersion (a polite way of saying consistency, or lack thereof), so there’s no guessing—just data telling the truth, whether I like it or not.
We start with irons. Different heads, different feels, different results. When I miss a shot, the ball tends to leak right, so we check lie angle. A quick adjustment—2 degrees upright—and suddenly the clubface is consistently square at impact like it remembered its job. Effort level: down. Ball flight: improved. Confidence: creeping back.
Next we look at the different shaft options—because nothing says “fun afternoon” like realizing a higher kick point can change your entire golf identity. Shaft flex (how much the shaft bends during your swing) helps determine whether you get more height and distance or more control, while kick point (where the shaft bends the most) influences your ball flight—lower kick point for higher launch, higher kick point for a flatter, more penetrating shot. In other words, one small tweak and suddenly you’re hitting shots you’d normally only describe later, slightly exaggerated, over a glass of wine.
Then we move through the bag: hybrids, fairway woods, drivers, wedges. It’s a full rotation of “try this,” “now try this,” and “okay wait … THAT one.”
And yes—the new Quantum driver and fairway woods made an appearance. Without getting too deep in the weeds, they’re faster, more forgiving, and smarter (thanks to AI face mapping) than previous models. Translation: Even your mishits are now slightly less embarrassing. And they were not the only things getting tested. My patience was under attack because the driver and woods would not be available to the public for a good three months.
Courtesy of Ely Callaway Performance Center
Watching the fitting team work is like watching a Formula 1 pit crew. Clubs are swapped in seconds. Shafts tightened, adjusted, replaced. One minute you’re swinging something that seems “fine,” and the next, you’re holding a club that feels like it is a part of your DNA.
Then there’s the putter fitting. Drivers are physics. Putters are therapy. Inside the putting lab, sensors track everything—tempo, face angle, path—things you didn’t even know could be measured. Within minutes, my data politely informs me that my putter face is slightly closed at impact. Not shocking, but also not ideal.
A few quick adjustments—different head (with a bit more weight at the toe to discourage the face swinging closed at impact), shorter shaft (so I feel more over the ball, which helps my eyeline)—and suddenly the ball starts rolling exactly where I’m aimed.
Same stroke. Same golfer. Completely different outcome. If only the rest of life worked like that.
And then there’s the part that feels slightly classified. The ECPC isn’t “just” a performance center—it’s also where future equipment lives before the public even knows it exists. I’ve been there when certain clubs were basically under surveillance. Not “don’t touch,” but more “please keep phones in your pocket.”
It’s golf’s version of Area 51. Except instead of aliens, it’s drivers that won’t hit shelves for another year—and like I mentioned, waiting is not my strong suit.
Getting to test the newest equipment isn’t just a perk—it’s part of the job. It’s what allows me to stand in front of students and say, “I’ve tried it. I know what works and what doesn’t. And more importantly, I know why.” And if I happen to sprint to my car every time the phone rings and someone says, “Come test something” … well, that’s just professional courtesy.
Callaway isn’t the only place to get your swing analyzed and clubs fitted. You can stroll into big retail spots like The Golf Mart or Golf Galaxy, book a next-level session at a dedicated studio like Club Champion or True Spec Golf, test brand-specific gear at various manufacturing companies (many located in Carlsbad), or even combine a lesson and a fitting at GOLFTEC. And let’s not forget your local golf course, where fittings happen on actual turf, on a driving range you have some history with—many times with the golf professional who is familiar with your swing so they can give you valuable input. With this many options, there’s really no excuse, other than pride, to keep blaming your clubs.
San Diego has always worshipped at the altar of good skin. Equal parts surf town, biotech hub, and wellness capital, it’s a city where lunch breaks become beach walks and sunscreen sits beside car keys by the front door. The products that get used here earn their place. With 266 sunny days a year and one of the highest rates of skin cancer in the country, we take skincare seriously. Dr. Bronner’s has been making soap in North County since the 1960s. Sun Bum was born in Encinitas and is now on shelves in over 70 countries. The tradition runs deep.
“Living in San Diego means your skin is exposed to sun almost every day of the year,” says Sue Zhang, M.D., a San Diego physician specializing in aesthetic medicine. “The products that tend to succeed here are the ones that can keep up with daily life, UV exposure, sweat, and movement, while still supporting long-term skin health.”
From a mineral powder that solves the sunscreen-over-makeup problem to an acorn oil serum rooted in Indigenous plant medicine, the local San Diego shelf is more diverse, and comprehensive, than most of us realize.
Courtesy of Kopari
Kopari
Sun Shield Body Glow SPF
A hydrating gel-oil hybrid that applies like a body treatment and leaves skin with a sheen that reads as healthy rather than oily. La Jolla–founded Kopari built its reputation on cold-pressed coconut oil sourced from family farms in the Philippines, and the Sun Shield Body Glow SPF is exactly that in summer form: coverage that doubles as skincare.
4-Skin
Morning Rub
The name is intentional. The founder got a basal cell carcinoma diagnosis that his dermatologist caught—she’s now his business partner. The question he couldn’t shake was why the skincare industry hadn’t yet figured out how to talk to men, and 4-Skin is the answer: a premium sunscreen and skincare line built around the kind of blunt, self-aware humor that gets guys to pay attention. Men’s skincare has needed this for a long time, and the formulas are serious enough to deliver.
Courtesy of Coola
Coola
Classic Face Sunscreen SPF 50
Carlsbad-based Coola was formulating organic SPF before “clean sunscreen” was a marketing category, and the Classic Face Sunscreen is the brand’s thesis: protection that disappears into skin and layers cleanly under makeup. Sheer and lightly hydrating, it makes sunscreen easy to reapply before an afternoon walk at Torrey Pines.
Saffron and Sage
Glow Finishing Oil
Squalane, argan, jojoba, and CoQ10: a short ingredient list that does a lot. The Glow Finishing Oil from Mission Hills wellness sanctuary Saffron and Sage is plant-based, scientifically grounded, and formulated to absorb rather than sit on the skin. The brand started as an integrative health practice where acupuncture, naturopathic care, and functional medicine share a roof, and the skincare line runs on the same philosophy.
Courtesy of Alastin
Alastin
Restorative Skin Complex with TriHex+
The Restorative Skin Complex is powered by TriHex+, a patented peptide blend developed by Carlsbad-based Alastin’s team of SkinMedica veterans. It promises to clear out damaged collagen and elastin while supporting new production, the kind of gradual improvement that makes a product hard to quit.
Beldi is a multi-functional cleansing tradition rooted in Moroccan hammam culture, dating back over 12 centuries. Alia Jouj is the brand’s flagship product, and San Diego–based founder Dr. Mia Chae Reddy built a brand around it. Alia Jouj uses 100 percent organic, cold-pressed argan oil and the same ancient saponification method to produce a honey-thick liquid cleanser that softens skin without stripping it.
Courtesy of N8iV Beauty
N8iV Beauty
Móyla Moon Polish
Acorn oil has been used by California’s Indigenous communities as plant medicine for generations. Ruth-Ann Thorn, an enrolled member of the Rincon Band of Luiseño Indians, built N8iV around it as the first Native American–owned skincare brand to reach the national mainstream. The Móyla Moon Polish, named for the Luiseño word for moon, is an exfoliant centered on acorn oil Thorn gathers herself each year from the La Jolla reservation. Find it at the Gaslamp Quarter store Thorn owns at the historic Yuma Building.
Courtesy of Colorescience
Colorescience
Sunforgettable Total Protection Brush-On Shield SPF 50
This product solved the reapplication problem. As a brush applicator, this mineral SPF goes over makeup without disturbing it, which is why it has been on derm-office retail shelves in Carlsbad and beyond for over two decades. The tinted version doubles as foundation.
Courtesy of Tubby Todd
Tubby Todd
All Over Ointment
This steroid-free, petroleum-free eczema treatment was built specifically for babies and toddlers (although grown-ups can use it, too). It’s centered on FDA-approved 1 percent colloidal oatmeal with a base of sunflower seed oil, beeswax, and jojoba. The “linoleic-acid-rich sunflower oil is helpful for atopic, eczema-prone skin that is often deficient in that fatty acid,” says Dr. Zhang. Gentle enough for newborns, safe for daily use, and tested by both pediatricians and dermatologists.
Korej
The Mandelic Night Serum
The Mandelic Night Serum pairs mandelic acid, an AHA derived from almonds and gentler than glycolic acid on sensitive skin, with lactic acid, niacinamide, and urea to brighten, smooth texture, and reduce breakouts overnight. Fragrance-free, vegan, cruelty-free. The brand name is the initials of the founder’s five daughters, pronounced like courage. Dr. Zhang also says she “really value[s] [the founder’s] mission to create pregnancy-safe skincare products that are both effective and wallet-friendly.”
Ingrid Yang, M.D., J.D. is a hospital-based physician in San Diego, CA, certified yoga therapist, and longevity specialist. She loves *double hearts* San Diego and spends her days helping people fully engage in long, healthy lives through evidence-based lifestyle medicine. Her books include Adaptive Yoga, Zen Mindfulness, and Hatha Yoga Asanas. When she’s not leading international wellness retreats, she is chasing sunsets, handstanding in nature, or geeking out over mitochondria.
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.
Kelly H. Harfouche, founder of KQ Aesthetic Society, knows firsthand that cosmetic treatments like fillers, neurotoxins, and microneedling, can not only enhance a person’s appearance and restore confidence, they have the power to truly change a person’s life. An expert injector has the ability to tailor treatments to each individual patient’s anatomy and goals for personalized results. Harfouche, a board-certified nurse practitioner, has spent nearly a decade perfecting her craft as an aesthetic injector and integrating her multifaceted artistic skills with precision patient care. Her commitment to continual education and training, plus a passion for helping people look—and feel—their best, set KQ Aesthetic Society apart in a sea of local medspas.
For many people considering nonsurgical treatments, the intent is to look refreshed and refined. KQ Aesthetic Society’s philosophy eschews a cookie cutter approach that bases treatments around units, instead working to understand each person’s unique goals, then curating a treatment plan to fit that vision. Harfouche focuses on “inclusive luxury,” the belief that everyone deserves access to aesthetic treatments, respective of budget restrictions. She develops long-standing trusted relationships with her patients, and works with each one to achieve their aesthetic objectives and address the underlying causes of their concerns.
“For me, forming an honest and open relationship with every patient who walks through the door is essential. This means understanding them on a deeper level and meeting them where they are to define and achieve their individual goals,” she says.
Drawing on her artistic background, which inspired her transition into medical aesthetics, Harfouche sees each client as a “unique canvas.” Rather than relying on standardized procedures, the practitioner’s distinctive approach combines her profound understanding of the physiological and anatomical changes associated with aging with an unwavering commitment to ongoing education about the newest products and their mechanisms of action. Her goal is to make each patient feel beautiful in their own skin and to embrace their individuality.
She has also pioneered a way to combine her talent for aesthetic artistry with her philanthropic nature. Harfouche is one of only a handful of providers using dermal fillers to treat patients with lip asymmetry and scarring resulting from cleft lip surgery. Patients travel from around the country for this transformative treatment, noting increased confidence and a restored identity. She hopes to eventually launch a training program to help fill the void in this space.
“My passion has always been connecting with people and giving back in any capacity that I can,” she says. In the rapidly advancing landscape of aesthetic medicine, you can place your confidence in Harfouche and KQ Aesthetic Society to deliver exceptional care. To learn more or book a consultation, please visit kqaestheticsociety.com.
Front yards. They used to be the most controlled part of a home—or not. They could be tidy with manicured lawns, have raised vegetable beds with food for sharing, or act as an overflow of things that didn’t quite make it inside. Thank you, capitalism, and the American habit of endless consumption. In Lemon Grove, where I live, it’s not uncommon to see a mechanic running a business from his front yard or a family selling birria on Saturdays from theirs. The front-yard genre is broad.
But in communities across San Diego County, the most exposed part of a house—the strip between public and private life—is being turned into something eminently usable, visible, and hang-outable. At first glance, this may seem decorative, but in creating an intentional space, particularly one that’s visible to neighbors and passersby, it’s also the release of a pressure valve.
Let’s not gloss it over: American life has taken a hard right at high speed; two wheels have lifted off the pavement as we careen toward who-knows-what, and our nervous systems are making a sound best described as zoinks!
People are trying to (re)build connection in an increasingly isolated culture, (re)find beauty in the midst of endless anxiety, and (re)create a system friendly for critters. Many of us are remembering that, Oh yeah—we’re biological creatures.
Courtesy of Andrea Doonan
San Diego as a “Biodiversity Hotspot”
Landscape designer Andrea Doonan, of Andrea Doonan Horticulture + Design, is a certified arborist with more than 20 years of experience collaborating with homeowners and renters. She rejects sterile, white picket fence designs and places a strong emphasis on edible gardens and usable outdoor spaces. When we speak, she mentions the unusually wide range of plant and animal life in the relatively small size of our region, making us a “biodiversity hotspot.” (San Diego is the most biodiverse county in the Lower 48.) Because of this, we have a unique system of endangered species that rely on plants to survive.
“More and more, people are introducing native landscapes to connect to nature and support birds, butterflies, and bees,” Doonan says. “I’m very passionate about getting people to unplug and ground.”
Whether it’s for a love of all creatures, our climate, or water conservation, Doonan describes a broader shift toward habitat-driven spaces that are both aesthetic and ecological. For her clients, this can mean replacing turf with native planting, adding seating areas, or even rethinking the front walk as an active, planted threshold rather than just a green lawn. “There’s this idea that people want to make a difference,” she says. “But they also want a place to entertain, recreate, and ground.”
At the center of this is a simple but increasingly urgent question: How can small design choices ripple outward into community life?
Courtesy of Andrea Doonan
For Doonan’s client Lee Miller, that shift is fully expressed. After remodeling the interior of his Pacific Beach home, Miller focused on the backyard, thinking that would be the place for his soon-to-be-born daughter to eventually play. The front yard of his corner property was the last detail to be completed.
Miller said he wanted “a very full, very natural look versus having everything measured.” He knew what he liked when he saw it, but it was Doonan who translated his ideas and guided the creation of a wildlife-friendly space with full-grown orange, plum, and pluot trees. “We have lots of birds, lots of bees, lots of lizards,” Miller says. “There’s nothing better than walking outside and eating fruit off a tree.”
The front yard has become where Miller’s family spends time—often more than the backyard. He and his daughter, who’s now 5, explore the space together, checking what’s growing, learning about their little ecosystem, and chasing lizards. It’s where his daughter plays, where she’s built her own fairy garden, and where neighborhood parents and kids tend to gather at the end of the day.
Courtesy of Jenna Gilmer
Building Community by Being Out There
For her own Normal Heights home, Doonan designed a front yard that includes a seed library, raised beds, native plants, and a sitting area where she and her husband spend time. “I’m meeting my neighbors because I put two chairs and some plants in the front yard,” she says. “I’m sharing produce with them.”
That exchange has become part of the landscape itself, and she points to small systems (like seed libraries) as ways of circulating plant material and knowledge directly between people. In real life. Person to person.
More and more, Doonan says, when we’re talking about solving the big problems, it’s important to remember that everything starts local. Even “guerilla gardening”—small acts of informal planting and care in overlooked sections of land, such as parking strips—makes a difference. Tossing some seeds and adding a bench to the sidewalk strip out front can create a “pocket park” or “a mini-mini park.” In that framing, the front yard stops being an ornamental backdrop and starts becoming an infrastructure for connection.
Landscape architect Bret Belyea frames this front-yard movement (my term, not his) as social repair. “It’s a handshake to your neighbors and passersby,” he says. “It says something about who you are.”
Of course, plant choices matter, but not only for ecological reasons. Native and climate-appropriate plantings become part of how neighborhoods re-establish contact with each other, even without formal planning. What he describes is an aesthetic, but it’s also relational in the way a yard can signal openness rather than withdrawal, invitation rather than separation, and connection rather than, “Get off my lawn, ya damn kids!”
Hanging out in the front yard rather than sequestering in the back is a signal to outsiders that they’re really not outsiders at all. Or, at least, they don’t have to remain so.
Courtesy of Andrea Doonan
The Front Yard as Memory
Not every front yard in this shift toward social spaces has a professional’s influence. Some are created through labor, trial and error, and nostalgia. For Grace Wanjiru, the memory of her childhood in Gitaru, Kenya, led her to beautifully DIY the hell out of the front part of her half-acre Encanto property. When she bought her home nearly two decades ago, it was essentially just a little house plunked down on a giant plot of dirt. She had a blank slate and plenty of memories from which to create something that would imbue the space with peace and hospitality.
The designer-led yards are often framed through an academic understanding of ecology, structure, and intentional planting strategies, and Wanjiru did much of the same thing through instinct. When she’d visit her mother, who lives just outside of Nairobi, she was reminded of the abundant beauty and vibrancy of a childhood spent running free, climbing trees, and being connected to nature. It was important to Wanjiru that her then-young daughters, both now in their early 20s, have that experience.
Courtesy of Grace Wanjiru
Wanjiru’s goal was to create the feeling of home, not as replication but as translation. “When you throw a seed in Kenya, something grows,” Wanjiru tells me. “Here, the dirt is horrible for plants. I still wanted green and color. I wanted nature—birds and insects. I grew up with nature, but here: No.”
With an understanding of what would and wouldn’t grow in San Diego, Wanjiru was able to achieve a sense of home with succulents and native plants she purchased at Walmart. She created a large courtyard with a fence built of wood and corrugated metal. Inside, she added a hammock and a bird bath, which Wanjiru settled on after gophers ate through seven different plants; a table with an open cookbook, a bottle of wine, three glasses; a weathered dresser—once in her daughter’s room—that now sits opposite the table and contains Wanjiru’s many seeds. And, of course, strung lights.
Wanjiru likes to host small groups of her friends and family, keeping it intimate but accessible. “This is the kind of house you just call: ‘What are you doing? Are you making your African tea? Can we just come over?’ Because this is what they do [in Kenya],” she tells me. “And so I always want to have that, because I think for foreigners living in America, that’s one of the things we struggle with. We don’t have that kind of community.”
Craving a communal feeling, Wanjiru built it herself. And her kids grew up climbing the jacaranda tree and playing in the garden.
“We still gather out there,” she says. “We read in the hammock, talk, connect.”
Courtesy of Andrea Doonan
Gardens as Points of Connection
Perhaps the most important part of a front yard is a garden, whether it’s a space for entertaining and gathering, retreating and grounding, discovering and playing, resting and people-watching. The science backs up what gardeners have long known: Spending time around plants can be profoundly restorative. A 2024 review of dozens of studies found that gardening is consistently associated with better mental health, greater well-being, and improved quality of life, also linking interaction with plants and green spaces to better nervous system regulation.
For Doonan, this is part of why the conversation around gardens is bigger than aesthetics. “Gardens are for everyone,” she says. “I think it’s a right for all of us to have access to gardens.” “All of us” means homeowners and renters, people with sprawling yards and people with apartment balconies, people with large budgets and people growing herbs in containers from the discount rack at Home Depot.
In my conversation with Belyea, I tell him about a little house I passed in Oceanside this past spring. The owners set out free avocado clippings from their tree for anyone to take. “This is people’s way of putting an olive branch out,” he says. “And it just happens to be an avocado branch.” Maybe that’s what this front-yard shift is really about. Maybe it’s about trying to remember how to live alongside one another again. A hammock beneath string lights. Kids chasing lizards through native plants. Someone slowing to ask what’s growing. A neighbor stopping by and staying longer than they planned to. All of it, a pocket of softness in a culture that’s trying its damndest to make us harden.
Aaryn Belfer is a writer and editor specializing in nonfiction across art, architecture, and culture. Once upon a time, she wrote a provocative column for San Diego CityBeat (RIP). She was a runner up in the 2025 Matchbook Stories contest at the San Diego Central Library and is irrationally happy about it. Currently in her Soft Girl Era, Aaryn has expensive taste in (mostly flat) shoes and will choose a great art exhibit or live jazz concert over almost anything else. Except, possibly, Javier Bardem.
Before, during, and after the Fourth of July, San Diegans can commemorate America’s 250th anniversary with an abundance of stars, stripes and local celebrations. America The Beautiful: 250 at The Rady Shell and Lamb’s Players Theatre’s revival of American Rhythm will look back at the many songs which define our country. Liberty Station’s Anchored in Freedom celebration and the Independence Day Carnival offer community-centered fun and loads of family-friendly activities. And who can possibly forget the Big Bay Boom, which will resume its reign over San Diego Bay as the state’s biggest fireworks show. Outside of the holiday festivities, this week brings the yearly return of Little Italy’s Summer Sera and the Athenaeum Summer Festival, as well as a slate of championship matches for All Elite Wrestling.
Sip on refreshing beverages and savor a panoramic rooftop view this Friday from 6-8 p.m. during the 21-plus Sunset & Spritz at Margaritaville Hotel San Diego Gaslamp Quarter’s 5 O’Clock Somewhere Bar. There will be a live DJ (until 9 p.m.), appetizers, pool and cabana access, a photo booth, and a cash bar (until 11 p.m.). To accentuate the summer theme, guests are invited to dress in white, pink, and orange attire. Tickets are $29 and come with a welcome aperol spritz.
616 J Street, Gaslamp
The 250 Grand Tasting Menu at Amaya
July 3 & 4
Bring a patriotic palette to the Fairmont Grand Del Mar for The 250 Grand Tasting Menu at Amaya this Friday and Saturday from 5-8:30 p.m. Patrons will be treated to a five-course tasting menu, curated to exhibit a selection of standout regional flavors and culinary concepts that have shaped our country’s distinct food heritage. The meal will also include beverage pairings with each course, such as wine, cocktails, and artisanal drinks. Reservations are $330 per person (with tax and 20% gratuity) on OpenTable.
Don Toliver thrives at being the life of the party (and the “After Party”). His fifth album Octane, released in February, is indicative of his thrill-seeking nature. As with his earlier releases, Octane sees Toliver operating in the space between hip-hop and R&B, with warbling vocals and blaring beats that are best heard at a high volume. This Tuesday at 7:30 p.m., Toliver will play at Pechanga Arena, with rappers SoFaygo, Chase B and SahBabii—who had a guest verse on Octane standout “K9”—as special guests. Tickets start at $156 for this concert.
What makes musicals like Wicked, Cats, Chicago, and Jersey Boys so timeless is the legion of excellent songs that makes fans out of those who’ve never even watched the show. This Friday at 7:30 p.m. during Blockbuster Broadway! at The Rady Shell, conductor Evan Roider, the San Diego Symphony Orchestra, and veteran vocalists Alex Getlin, Jessica Hendy, Scott Coulter, and John Boswell (also on piano) will perform an all-star theater soundtrack. In addition to the shows named above, audiences can expect songs from A Chorus Line, The Phantom of the Opera, Annie,and more. Tickets range from $57 to $129 for this concert.
222 Marina Park Way, Embarcadero
America The Beautiful: 250 at The Rady Shell
July 4
One night after recognizing the brilliance of Broadway, The Rady Shell will ring in the United States’ landmark anniversary with America The Beautiful: 250 this Saturday at 7:30 p.m. Conductor Byron Stripling, joined by a five-performer ensemble and the San Diego Symphony Orchestra, will lead a night of ballads that best resemble the red, white, and blue, including songs sourced from the Great American Songbook. After the show, concertgoers are invited to watch the nearby Big Bay Boom from their seats. Tickets range from $71 to $139 for this concert.
222 Marina Park Way, Embarcadero
Athenaeum Summer Festival at Athenaeum Music & Arts Library
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.
AVRP Studios’ tradition for Design Excellence and Innovation began in 1976 with Doug Austin, FAIA, in Solana Beach, California. The firm has since grown to complete major projects throughout the United States and Canada. We think of ourselves as a family and we care deeply about people. We want to inspire, help make their lives richer and more complete through our efforts. We believe that architecture is one of the most important art forms because of the impact it can have on the lives of those it touches. We’re delighted to have been recognized with over 150 awards for design excellence.
703 16th Street, Suite 200, San Diego, California 92101 | 619-704-2700 | avrpstudios.com
