There’s a noticeable lack of loud music. No bright posters or stark images adorning every wall. Not even a single inspirational quote in cursive.Social Dropouts Collective has a much different vibe from your standard maker space. Here in a converted garage in Carmel Valley, cofounders Uyen “Wednesday” Tran, Koy Suntichotinun, and Tommy (last name withheld by request) are crafting a creative space more reflective of their own artistic process. It’s still fun, still funky. But it’s also an environment mindful of people who learn and perform best in the absence of the hyperstimulation that’s become de rigueur for art workshops.People like them.“The goal of Social Dropouts is to create an accessible maker space for neurodivergent people,” says Tran, an illustrator and designer who is diagnosed with severe ADHD and bipolar disorder. “This world was made for neurotypical people. It’s up to us to create a world that serves us.”
Social Dropouts Collective – Garage
Stacy Keck
The group launched their business in November 2021, after more “typical” creative-work environments—which overwhelmingly emphasized high-energy social interaction—left them feeling burnt out.“Dropping out is a choice,” says Suntichotinun. “We’re dropping out of what’s popular and building our own space.”Tran says it’s as simple as creating a space that’s quiet and resourceful for creatives, where tools, equipment, and support are easily accessible. When possible, artists are invited to one-on-one training for equipment they might otherwise see only at a design manufacturer—like a heat pressing machine to set original designs on T-shirts and shoes, or a laser cutter to create keychains or earrings.
The group also lifts the veil from the creation of their art and products, documenting the process from concept to execution. Tran makes colorful stationery and jewelry. Suntichotinun is known for stylized designs on hats and shirts. Tommy drives the business end, producing quick video clips and sharing the stories on their social media accounts.Tran and Suntichotinun joined our video call from outside Market on 8th, the National City food hall, where they were working on a mural for a new location of Weapon Ramen—a restaurant from top local chef Phillip Esteban. It’s another atypical day for the collective, which is raising revenue for their maker space by taking on commissions. They also sell identity-affirming merchandise online and in person by popping up at local San Diego spaces like Loose Lab in Grant Hill.Art has been important for finding and maintaining mental wellness for each of the founders, particularly for Tran, who didn’t originally set out to become a creative despite being drawn to artmaking as a child. Before graduating from UC San Diego in 2018 with a degree in economics, Tran took an internship in Washington, DC, with former Congresswoman Susan Davis’s team.“I was collecting the experience for my résumé and I felt really empty inside,” she says. “I didn’t feel like I was being genuinely me.”
It was her budding long-distance relationship with Suntichotinun that pulled Tran out of her creative fog. “I embroidered flowers and sent them to him, he made me drawings—it was back-and-forth snail mail,” she explains. “I would read books and draw in them and annotate them and send them to him, and he would read them. I felt like myself again.”New love becomes new art becomes a new company. Now, with Tommy onboard, Social Dropouts Collective is mapping out a business plan based on the thrill of making, creating access to art careers, and teaching creatives in a different, less-stimmed way. As the collective becomes more financially stable, they hope to incorporate paid mentorships and collaborations.“At the end of the day, it takes one special core memory to get someone to embark on their journey of being their most authentic self,” says Tran. “We want to provide that.”
Social Dropouts Collective – sewing machine
Stacy Keck
Even if they can change the frame of reference for just one neurodivergent artist—to know that spaces empathetic to how they work and learn can exist—it’s the first step in changing the field, so creatives can be supported not only for their final product, but for the often slow, bumpy, and error-riddled process it takes to get there, too.
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
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.
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.”
Captain Keno’s No. 8 special—pancakes, sausage, toast, home fries, and eggs for $2.99—was the fuel that powered Benji Weatherley for surf competitions as a teenage pro. A couple decades later, tears were shed when the Coast Highway dive-slash-eatery called it a day after 54 years. Usually, the guts of a shuttered restaurant go to liquidation auctions or straight to the dump to decompose along with its legend. Instead, Weatherley took in Keno’s spare parts—plus other relics from Encinitas’ past—and used them to build the newest community hangout.
Every single piece in the place is from somewhere in this town,” Weatherley says about Breakers Cafe Bar & Grill. “I’m not going to settle for anything less.”
Breakers is a Hawaiian hideout in an uncool part of the coastal surf town, but it’s got the set design of an Encinitas superfan. The plates, silverware, and coffee mugs are from Keno’s. So are the tables and booths. There’s a bench made from the last table preserved in The Derby House (a building that, for over a century, was a hotel, then became a hospital, a religious retreat, and a private home). Weatherley’s not performing CPR on old upholstery because he’s a fan of antique furniture. It’s a method to bring people together.
“Representing nostalgia in this town is the only way to grasp a hold of the community,” Weatherley says. “Everyone wants to touch and feel something different from what they’re experiencing on their phones.”
Photo Credit: Matt Furman
Every week, locals bring him photos, artifacts, and bits of paraphernalia from Encinitas’ past and ask Weatherley to give them a new home. “I’ve had ladies who were there when [Captain Keno’s] opened cry in my arms and say, ‘This table is where I had my second birthday with my grandma,’” he says. “They tell me these stories, and I tell them I have all the same stories about my mom.” (Weatherley’s mom first brought him to Keno’s and helped raise the young surfers from the Momentum Generation documentary—Weatherley, Taylor Steele, Rob Machado, Kelly Slater, etc.—as they surfed some of the world’s most dangerous waves at Pipeline in Hawaii. Back then, she owned Breakers Restaurant & Bar in Haleiwa. Name sound familiar?)
Weatherley has always been the funniest man in the room. He calls Breakers “the Chuck E. Cheese of Encinitas.” The restaurant hosts hula dancing classes, open-mic comedy nights, and evenings bartended by longtime Captain Keno’s barkeep Vaka Kaufusi. Cult-loved reggae band Steel Pulse hit the Breakers stage recently to perform a new song that Weatherley also helped write. His longtime friend Jack Johnson has dropped by to sing a few, too.
Despite not having a fancy location along the 101, people are catching on. Fire stations and hospitals have held staff parties there. Weatherley also currently sponsors four sports teams.
“Last night, I had a girl say, ‘I want my birthday party at Breakers,’” he says. “That, to me, is community in a nutshell.”
Emma Veidt is an editor at San Diego Magazine. She earned her bachelor's and master's degrees from the Missouri School of Journalism. She loves running, hiking, and rock climbing, but really, she mostly loves encounters with the street cats around North Park.
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.
Mai Vue was just 34 weeks pregnant when she delivered her baby. Her pregnancy had been complicated, and she’d had a recent second trimester pregnancy loss, which led to her receiving specialized care from Sean Daneshmand, MD, a Scripps Clinic perinatologist who oversees high-risk pregnancies. Dr. Daneshmand and his team took care of Mai during her pregnancy, through the birth of her healthy baby girl and beyond. Mai was part of a program Scripps launched to provide support to new moms in the weeks and months after delivery. The postpartum program, known as Scripps Health’s Fourth Trimester Continuum of Care, provides care for women with high-risk pregnancies to optimize their health after childbirth and reduce the risk of complications in future pregnancies. Click here to learn more.
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