“Our sound is clean; it’s clear. It cuts through,” Taylor says. But when asked how long it took to engineer that classic Taylor sound, he laughs. “Oh, I did not [engineer it]. It was just like, ‘Oh, you really like it? Oh, okay, yeah, I meant to do that.’ We made a guitar that was very innocent, half an accident, but it helped change the music industry.”
Taylor, who started making guitars at 16, only knew one thing when he began: He’d turn his passion into a career. Three years later, he partnered with Kurt Listug, who was 21 at the time. The pair purchased a small guitar shop in Lemon Grove and began building.
On October 15, 1974, they founded Westland Music Company, which became Taylor Guitars in 1976. This year, the company celebrates its 50th anniversary. Having grown sales worldwide to $125M, Taylor counts among its fans some of the music industry’s biggest artists: John Fogerty, Jewel, Zac Brown, Jason Mraz, Katy Perry, and Taylor Swift, to name a few.
But it took more than three decades before Taylor Guitars was a household name. In the ’80s, music was all about heavy metal, synth, and glam—acoustic guitars weren’t exactly flying off the shelves.
Photo Credit: Matt Furman
“We started selling in Los Angeles during the Laurel Canyon days. And, you know, music was changing a lot then,” Taylor says. “Acoustic guitars were always hard to play. The necks were too big, the strings were too high; it took a death grip to play them.”
But Taylor and Listug had faith in their product. They packed up their axes and headed to the 1985 National Association of Music Merchants (NAMM) show, an annual trade event that is the largest of its kind today.
There, they showcased a new line of guitars called the Artist Series, limited-edition models finished in colored stain. One of Taylor Guitars’ distributors challenged them to make a 12-string purple guitar for Prince, who had just released “Purple Rain,” garnering him global stardom.
Prince played his new 655 Artist Series guitar in a Live Aid video that year, though he requested no branding be shown at the time. Luckily, the industry found out who was behind the artist’s new instrument. The calls from musicians trickled in. The shift had begun.
Acoustic guitars began reclaiming their popularity. In 1989, MTV Unplugged started showcasing musicians playing acoustic versions of their songs. Riding this wave of renewed interest, Taylor Guitars ramped up production in the ’90s and early aughts. Taylor refined his guitar-making process and, in 1992, found the business a new home in El Cajon, where they remain today, occupying eight buildings.
Around that time, a young Taylor Swift purchased a Baby Taylor, which she used to write songs in the backseat of her car. Swift’s dad dropped off a cassette tape to Taylor’s office while the now-billionaire Swift was still flying under the radar, Taylor recalls.
“I know that every dad thinks his daughter’s special, but mine really is. Would you listen to that cassette?” Swift’s father said to Taylor. In 2008, Swift held her Fearless album release party at the factory.
Photo By Matt Furman
Two years later, the company hired Andy Powers—an Oceanside native who began crafting guitars at the age of 7 and previously ran an instrument-building business of his own—as Taylor’s design successor. Powers re-engineered the brand’s entire lineup of guitars, created new body styles, offered a more diverse range of musical sounds, and developed new guitar voicing architectures. Taylor Guitars sealed its name as one of the best in the industry.
But today, as we tour the facilities, Taylor’s stories are less about the many musicians he’s worked with and more about the families his company—which became fully employee-owned in 2021—has been able to help along the way.
“[Wuhan] came to us from Cambodia,” says Taylor, who gave her a job shortly after she arrived in the states. “She worked for six months and got a raise. She was like, ‘I never thought that life could be like this.’”
Walking along the factory floor, we’re surrounded by half-finished guitar bodies, tiny lasers, larger-than life robots buffing wood, and workers installing fretboards, applying back bracing, and cutting sound holes. Wherever we go, Taylor takes the time to say hello to his countless employees by name.
I ask him what he’s most proud of after half a century of crafting instruments. Even with his focus on his team, I still half-expect him to gesture toward a wall of various celebs playing his guitars. But his reply is swift: “That we were able to make this career out of guitar-making for all these people. That’s what I’m most pleased with.”
Nicolle Monico is an award-winning writer and the director of creative projects, digital editor for San Diego Magazine with more than 19 years of experience in media including Outside Run, JustLuxe and The San Francisco Chronicle.
San Diego is full of people who deserve a few thousand words on what they make, who they bring together, and how their work changes the city around them. The artists, makers, advocates, and behind-the-scenes talent below are a small part of that larger ecosystem.
To help us narrow our list, we looked for names that kept coming up, work that reflects the diversity of our region, and people building something bigger than themselves.
Jackie is a long-time freelance journalist covering cannabis, food/restaurants, travel, labor, wine, spirits, arts & culture, design, and other topics. Her work has been selected twice for Best American Travel Writing, and she has won a variety of national and local awards for her writing and reporting.
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.
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.
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.
Lili Kim is a content coordinator and writer for San Diego Magazine, with experience highlighting local businesses and communities. When not writing or shooting film, she is likely brewing her seventh cup of tea of the day or strolling along Sunset Cliffs.
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.
Gail Czyszczon is owner/copywriter at Z3 Writing and best-selling author of a children’s book series. As a strategic communications professional and editorialist, she's passionate about discovering untold stories and themes that ignite fresh conversation and true change in communities.
People remember the first time they see Joe Dreamz.
Mine was a mile into the 2023 Carlsbad Half Marathon. He was standing on a speaker in the middle of the course, singing: “Hey you with the shoes, are you living Joe Dreamz?” Clearly not. I’m running uphill at 7 in the morning, I thought.
Months later, walking out of The Rady Shell, there he was again—parting the crowd of concertleavers Moses and the Red Sea style, singing the same song: “Hey you with the purse, are you living Joe Dreamz?”
Who’s this man at every public spectacle, singing metaphysical questions in a hand-altered, color-coordinating suit that would make James Brown proud and standing on a Soundboks speaker with a microphone and tip bucket?
A few years ago, San Carlos–born, El Cajon–based Joe Dreamz wasn’t exactly living Joe Dreamz—making $5 footlongs at Subway, dealing with croissant coworkers at Costco’s bakery, and selling life insurance. After he got let go from the life insurance gig and his car broke down in the middle of a 2020 road trip in Seattle, he used his emergency savings to buy a microphone and a speaker; a self-taught musician, he pulled from the only skillset he knew to monetize. He’d set up at Seattle’s Pier 55 and ask people what their dreams were. Then, for $5, create a freestyle rap to commemorate (and hopefully activate) those dreams.
“The goal is that someone listens to a Joe Dreamz song, and they don’t have to wait until metaphorically their car breaks down before they chase their dreams,” he says.
Photo Credit: Matt Furman
A chance encounter with an airport worker led to a free flight back to San Diego, and Joe Dreamz came home “transformed,” he says. He started busking at the Mission Beach boardwalk, Kate Sessions Park, outside Gaslamp bars; then Padres games, farmers markets, marathons. He also hit the mic outside of Coachella this year (“Joe-chella,” he says).
It’s not a get-viral-quick gimmick; people’s lives are changing. One fan finished writing her book after a dose of Joe Dreamzpiration. Another named his own daughter Joy Dreams.
Now, he’s working on the upstart “Tell Me Your Dream” podcast and DREAM Week in local schools, where each day represents a step toward achievement (D is destination day, R is reason day…). He doesn’t want inspiration to reach you only after hearing a song or watching a video: He believes in this message so much that he literally got DREAM tattooed onto his forehead.
“It’s on my face, so people have no choice [but to see it],” he says. “I’m a local celebrity here, so everywhere I go, people ask me for pictures. In every selfie, the message goes along for the ride too.”
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.
Imagine being the song continuously getting skipped on the playlist. Not because no one wants to hear you, but because you never quite fit the moment. For years, San Diego has been that song on the touring circuit. Artists who have outgrown intimate clubs but aren’t yet filling arenas and stadiums have often passed us by, heading north to venues better suited to the size of their show. San Diego wasn’t missing the audience, it was missing the room.
That’s all about to change.
On August 17, Live Nation Entertainment announced plans to transform the historic Wonder Bread Building, which it purchased in June for $16.8 million, into a 4,000-capacity indoor venue slated to open in fall 2028. The new space will host music acts as well as private, corporate, and community events.
Currently, San Diego’s concert landscape jumps quickly from intimate clubs like the Casbah, Winston’s, and Belly Up to larger theaters, amphitheaters, arenas, and stadiums. What’s largely missing—particularly downtown—is a modern indoor room built specifically for roughly 4,000 concertgoers. This leaves a gap in mid-size venues for touring acts that land stages like the Hollywood Palladium or Boston’s MGM Music Hall at Fenway.
“We are filling a void in the market,” says John Schalk, Live Nation’s Vice President, San Diego Market. “There are other venues in town, but this […] building is just something that doesn’t currently exist.” Although SDSU’s Cal Coast Credit Union Amphitheater serves the 4,000-capacity range, its outdoor, fixed-seating arrangement isn’t as versatile as the proposed Live Nation project.
Located at 171 14th Street, just a six-minute walk from Petco Park, the building carries a century of history. Architect Eugene Hoffman designed it in 1924, a year after completing the Barcelona Apartment Hotel in Bankers Hill. The landmark brick building served as a bakery and warehouse for the Southern California Baking Company before Continental Baking Company, producers of Wonder Bread, took over in the 1950s and operated there through 1988 continued at the site until 2007.
In the early 2000s, Bob and Gay Sinclair, the couple behind a portfolio of East Village properties, purchased the building. After Bob—the founder of Pannikin Coffee & Tea—died in 2011, Gay sold much of their real estate portfolio but held onto the Wonder Bread Building. Mission Brewing eventually took over the space, where it operated for more than a decade before announcing its 2026 departure.
Now, the building is preparing for another reinvention. Live Nation plans to preserve the historic bakery’s four exterior walls, red brick façade, grain silo, barrel-vaulted trusses, and skylights as part of its next chapter.
Live Nation isn’t looking to erase its history but to celebrate it, allowing the building’s past to give the new venue some soul. “It’s really important for us that we maintain the integrity and the history of that building,” Schalk says. “There will be new construction and design elements as we go through the process to create the concert venue, but we’re working really hard to preserve it.”
Blueprint Studio, Live Nation’s in-house design and development group, and Gensler, the architecture firm behind San Diego International Airport Terminal 1 and Snapdragon Stadium, will be heading the project. The plan is to design the ground-floor space as an open, general-admission area with a premium level above with 600-plus fixed seats, in addition to box and suite sections. There will also be an additional structure built on top of the historical portion of the building (the four original walls that house the lobby) called the Vinyl Room—a Japanese-inspired hi-fi listening VIP lounge serving elevated food options.
One of the most reassuring aspects of the project is the focus on the concertgoer’s experience—specifically the “pet peeves” we all know too well: long bathroom lines, cramped exits, obstructed views. According to Schalk, one of the best things about building upon the existing structure is having the ability to consider potential obstacles and tackle them before construction begins. “I’d say we are ‘purpose building’ the entirety of the project for a music venue,” says Gensler lead project architect Garrett van Leeuwen. “As part of our design process, we do an in-depth sightline analysis to make sure that sightlines are optimized from every point and seat within the venue.”
Circulation design is also being implemented to ease traffic flow, alongside acoustic optimization and a transformative outdoor beautification effort. According to van Leeuwen, this “public realm space” will grow the existing 14-foot sidewalk to a 32-foot sidewalk complete with plazas and landscaping.
“This venue is for the fans. For the music lovers,” Schalk explains. The vision is intimate: “I want a fan to walk up to that building, see that red brick facade, grab their ticket from the box office, go into the lobby and see some of the history that will present itself… and feel like you entered a home.” Schalk also expressed a “keen interest in making sure that we work with the local artists, the local bands, the local musicians in town.” It’s a project that recognizes San Diego as a growing market that is hungry and ready to see a vibrant arts and culture community thrive.
According to an analysis by Oxford Economics analysis shared by Live Nation, the venue is projected to deliver a significant boost to the local economy, generating approximately $97 million in annual economic impact and supporting 660 jobs. This also includes welcoming 316,000 fans each year—with 126,000 traveling from outside the San Diego metro area—and driving $53 million in local spending at nearby restaurants, hotels, and retail establishments.
Considering its proximity to other major event spaces and overall busy urban areas, traffic and parking may be a concern, especially on nights of overlapping events. But in those cases, Schalk said they would work together on communication efforts; parking availability; and staggering start, end, and loading times; as well as providing easy access to designated rideshare areas. With transit stations nearby (the closest one being a 4-minute walk at 12th & Imperial), public transportation is another great option for enjoying your night out.
There are still two years of design, construction, and plenty of logistics between now and opening night. But the bigger promise of the Wonder Bread Building is simple: San Diego finally gets a venue built for the artists who have historically passed it by. After years of getting skipped on the touring playlist, the city may finally be getting its turn on repeat.
Camila Ibarra Gallego is a CaliBaja native pursuing a master's degree in culinary journalism at the Basque Culinary Center. Shaped by the culturally rich, bicultural megaregion, she's passionate about sniffing out stories that connect people, territory and culture through food. When she's not tumbling down internet rabbit holes, you can find her pretending to be a wine connoisseur at a local wine bar or nose-deep in a good book.
Implementing a farm-to-table model hardly deserves acknowledgement these days. It’s not a stretch. It’s not innovative. “It’s the bare f**king minimum,” says Herb & Sea‘s executive chef Aidan Owens.
When I arrive at the Encinitas restaurant, I’m ready to talk sustainability, farm-to-table stuff, with Owens. “Did you see the chin on that?” he says of the extra big jiggly chin on the sheephead that just arrived with the day’s fresh catch. I did. It was Jay Leno adjacent.
I learn quickly that he somehow oozes both charm and stone-cold honesty. Maybe he could construct a new dish with chin goo, like he did when he had a bunch of tuna scraps and voila’d it into a smooth and crowd-pleasing ‘nduja. “I want to know what’s in there,” he says.
Courtesy of Herb & Sea
The instinct to look closer, to dig into what others might discard, says a lot about the chef’s approach. I guide him back to our topic, but he has something else on his mind. “We’re overcomplicating food—what happened to just cooking good food and having fun with it?”
Owens grew up on a farm in Byron Bay, Australia, where sustainability wasn’t a concept you chat about so much as a way of life. Think dirt roads, backyard chickens, pulling vegetables straight from the ground, and a mother who believed that if you couldn’t pronounce the ingredients on a package, you shouldn’t eat what was inside.
Food wasn’t precious or performative. Making it was what you did because you were hungry and that’s still what inspires Owens today. “I like to cook good food because I like to eat good food,” he says.
His approach to sustainability at Herb & Sea began so naturally that it felt just like instinct. “I was just like, ‘Let’s order food from the people who live and work here,’” he says.
Courtesy of Herb & Sea
And why wouldn’t he when lives in San Diego? Cities all over the world vie for our goods. Our tuna is sent overseas. Our spiny lobsters hit dinner plates in China and Japan. Not to mention California’s producing a third of the country’s vegetables and three-quarters of its fruits and nuts.
“Why would we outsource when it’s all here?” Owens asks.
Sustainability, in this context, is about cooking what exists in abundance, nearby, right now. “I love the local fish here. It’s f**king delicious and San Diego citrus, I mean, it is so f**ing good,” he says.
Instead of importing ingredients, Owens also looks for nearby alternatives. “You can find really cool things in the local waters,” he says, pointing out that stingray cheeks taste similar to scallops.
Courtesy of Herb & Sea
Whatever he finds in that sheephead chin might just be the next substitute for marrow. But to make this work, it means getting diners amped up about the slightly unfamiliar.
Tasting menus, where diners are completely in his hands, become an opportunity to gently push boundaries. “I’ll serve mackerel, because people think they hate it,” Owens says, noting that the abundant local fish can have some fishiness. “But when it’s fresh, it’s arguably one of the best fish in the ocean.”
He also tweaks the language on the menu so people might feel more compelled to give dishes a try without preconceived notions. He might use “lengua” instead of “tongue.” “Whelk” instead of “snail.” When he puts “stingray throat” on the menu, he disarmingly calls it “skate.”
To reduce waste, scraps aren’t always discarded but rather turned into something new. Sometimes they’re smoked, cured or fermented. Apples going bad turn into apple ponzu. Lemons turn to marmalade, which stretches their usefulness far beyond peak season. “And it’s super tasty on our pizza,” he says.
What makes the food even richer, is the relationships he’s built with farmers. Though it didn’t always feel natural, Owens sought personal connection first. He recalls approaching a fisherman at the Tuna Harbor Dockside Market. “I was awkward,” he says. “I went up to him and said, ‘I like your fish.’”
Owen’s is now so close to his suppliers—like fishermen Ryan Sebo and Joe Daly—that he gets texted pictures of fresh catches right as they flop on the boat. The messages always ask if he wants first dibs. “I say yes to a lot of fish,” Owens says, noting that Herb & Sea can go through 2,000 pounds of seafood a week.
Courtesy of Herb & Sea
The next evolution of sustainability, in his view, will be chefs working directly with producers such as his alliance with Sebo, cutting out middlemen and purveyors where possible. “It will put more money in the pockets of the people doing the work,” he says.
It will mean that chefs can’t just know their local farmers and producers, but they’ll choose to work with the ones who have the best practices. Dining and sustainability will become much less about the final plate. “It will be more about the impact that plate has on the Earth,” he says.
Ultimately, he believes sustainability doesn’t need to be loud. It doesn’t need hashtags. It just needs to be honest.
“We aren’t saving lives. We’re feeding people good food,” he says.
And yet, in feeding people well—simply, thoughtfully, responsibly—something meaningful happens. Guests leave satisfied. Ingredients are respected. Local ecosystems are supported and food returns to what it has always been at its core: nourishment, pleasure, and a quiet reflection of the place it comes from.
September is San Diego’s unofficial second summer—the crowds thin, the weather stays warm, and the city’s calendar somehow gets even busier. This month brings stadium-sized rock shows, Broadway’s buzziest comedy, a new anime convention, world-premiere theater, gallery openings, food festivals, and the first signs of spooky season. Whether you’re ready to lean into fall or determined to keep summer going, here are the best things to do in San Diego this September.
As Guns N’ Roses storm into decade five, their appetite for destruction persists. During their Snapdragon Stadium concert, hear the hard rock anthems, new material and a set from The Black Crowes.
9/23
Kehlani is proof that the romance and earnest sensuality of old-school R&B will never go out of style. Hear her take it back to the aughts at Viejas Arena.
From the silver screen to The Old Globe stage, John Carney will Begin Again (again) with a world premiere musical adaptation featuring new songs—courtesy of Train—and a story overflowing with hope.
9/12-10/17
The concept of work is a guiding principle for San Diego native and multidisciplinary creative noé olivas. Observe his community-informed approach via Tierra y Cielo (Earth and Sky) at Best Practice Gallery.
9/18-10/25
Two workers grapple with the weight of their roles at a temporary migrant shelter in Mario Vega’s world premiere play Our Lady of the San Diego Convention Center, set for citywide performances.
9/26-2/28/2027
Luminous visions of peace and the Punjabi-American roots of Rupinder Kaloti inform The Gathering, a wondrous unification of family foretold via paintings at Oceanside Museum of Art.
9/29-10/4
It’s Mary Todd Lincoln’s world and we’re just living in it. See the presidential paramour barrel to her way to stardom at the Civic Theatre during Oh, Mary!, Cole Escola’s political spoof.
Courtesy of SeaWorld
More Fun Things to Do in San Diego This Month
9/5 & 9/6
Pros and Con(vention)s: Anime San Diego will debut at the San Diego Convention Center with cosplayers, panels and more than 400 vendors well-versed in Japanese animation.
9/11-10/31
Scaredy cats beware: SeaWorld San Diego’s Howl-O-Scream embraces frights forged in darkness. Enjoy an ominous lineup of live shows, scare zones and bloody bars ahead of Halloween.
9/12
The best parts of Artivál and the Alley Cat Art Walk have united for the free Alley Cat Art Fest, an all-day outing for live music and immersive artwork in Downtown El Cajon.
9/12 & 9/13
Take a Grecian vacation for a fraction of the price during the annual Cardiff Greek Festival, two days of immersive cuisine and culture—with plenty of dancing—on the Encinitas coast.
9/13-9/20
Step away from the stove! The California Restaurant Association has eight days of eating experiences with your name on it. During San Diego Restaurant Week, explore by meal, neighborhood or cuisine for your personal dining plan.
9/16
Nourish yourself with an all-inclusive spread of Pacific Beach eats and locally-crafted artwork during the HeArt of PB Restaurant Walk on Garnet Avenue.
9/19
When it comes to stand-up comedy, Chelsea Handler is always ready to roast. See Handler tell anecdotes and skewer an assemblage of victims during her Balboa Theatre performance.
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.
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.
Torch Heroes: Why San Diego’s Most Trusted Businesses Win by Doing the Right Thing
In a world overflowing with shortcuts, marketing fluff, and “good enough,” there are still companies that choose a different answer. And in San Diego, there are plenty of them.
2025-Torch-SD-09131839 (2)
In a world overflowing with shortcuts, marketing fluff, and “good enough,” there are still companies that choose a different answer.
Integrity guides how they show up every day. They make hard decisions, hold themselves accountable, and build trust the old-fashioned way, one action at a time. At the Better Business Bureau, we call these businesses Torch Heroes: leaders who demonstrate that ethical leadership strengthens businesses and drives long-term success.
And in San Diego, there are plenty of them.
Take House Collective Marketing Solutions, a Carlsbad-based digital agency that won the 2025 Torch Award for Ethics for its people-first approach to marketing. Instead of pushing flashy campaigns, the team often takes a step back to make sure clients’ foundations are strong before going big. Their philosophy? Truth over transaction builds partnerships that last.
Or look at Young Black & N’ Business, where integrity shows up through community action. When a local school lost art funding, founder Roosevelt Williams III and his team stepped in with workshops, mentorship, and hands-on support to help restore creative opportunity. That kind of engagement reflects ethical leadership rooted in real impact.
And in Vista, Lotus Sustainables carried its commitment to ethics all the way to the product line. After discovering defects in a shipment of eco-friendly products, the company issued full refunds and redesigned its offerings at its own expense, a choice that shaped its identity and reinforced to customers that ethics guide every decision.
In North County, Greenway Landscape Design & Build brings integrity into everyday service. When a client’s glass was damaged, likely not by their crew, owner Scott Lawn chose responsibility over blame and covered the repair personally. For Greenway, doing the right thing serves as a north star, guiding every interaction through transparent pricing, accountable partnerships, proactive communication, and follow-through long after the job is done.
Other honorees include At Your Home Familycare, whose leadership turned down a lucrative state contract during the pandemic to protect vulnerable clients and staff, and Bill Howe Family of Companies, where hiring practices, training, and service centers around shared values, every day, on every call.
What connects these diverse businesses, from marketing to nonprofit support to home services, isn’t size, industry, or revenue. It’s something deeper: a commitment to trust as a business strategy.
In San Diego’s competitive marketplace, that trust gives companies an edge. Clients invest in relationships. They refer friends. They stay loyal when others fade.
As one Torch Award winner puts it, integrity isn’t a section in the employee handbook. It’s the operating system of the company, the invisible code that determines every choice, every day.
And that’s exactly the point of the BBB Torch Awards for Ethics: to spotlight companies that dispel the myth that ethics and success are at odds. These businesses show that when leaders choose honesty, fairness, and accountability, especially when it’s hard, they build brands that matter.
At BBB, we see nominations come in from clients, employees, and business partners who have witnessed ethical leadership up close. These submissions aren’t polished promotions. They’re stories of moments when a company chose people over profit, clarity over confusion, and trust over convenience.
The nomination window for the 2026 Torch Awards for Ethics is open through March 31, 2026, and there are more Torch Heroes waiting to be recognized.
Who comes to mind in San Diego’s business community?
A vendor who always delivers — and always explains why.
A competitor who chooses the high road even when shortcuts tempt.
A team within your own company whose day-in, day-out choices reflect deep character.
And yes, businesses can nominate themselves. We encourage it. If you’ve built your business on principles rather than buzzwords, we want to hear your story.
Because in a world full of noise, integrity still deserves the spotlight, and San Diego is full of stories worth telling. Nominate your hero now.
