Veteran journalist Barbara Falconer Newhall riffs on life as she knows it.
I’m Barbara Falconer Newhall and I’ve got an incurable Case of the Human Condition. And since you do too, I’m counting on you to laugh and cry along with me as I riff on life as we know it . . . Below you'll read about my creaky, old fifties house, my forays into home gardening, my shopping stories, my spectacularly low-fashion wardrobe -- and more.
I keep a stash of greeting cards in my desk — birthday and anniversary cards to send to sisters-in-law, brothers, nephews and nieces as the dates come up. But that’s not what I needed on a recent afternoon. I needed sympathy cards. Two of them. Read more.
Lots of wonderful stuff to see at the Berkeley Potters Guild the other day. The work of three potters in particular, each with a distinctive vision, caused me to pull out my trusty point-and-shoot and click away. Read more.
The Institute of Mosaic Art left its creative mark on facades all over Oakland’s Jingletown neighborhood before moving last year to Berkeley. Visitors are welcome to stop by, and on a recent afternoon there was plenty to see: mosaic lemons, mosaic limes, a mosaic bird — and a mosaic bundt cake. Read more.
Is Oakland the next Brooklyn? Lots of people are saying so. As rents and living expenses skyrocket in San Francisco, thanks to the tech boom, hipsters and artists are relocating across the Bay to Oakland. Read more.
It was a lovely afternoon for wandering in and out of artists’ studios in Jingletown, Oakland, California’s vibrant, up-and-coming arts neighborhood, earlier this month. More than a dozen neighborhood artists had opened their doors for the annual East Bay Open Studios. Read more.
It’s midsummer. Right now. Today. It’s the summer solstice. Read more.
Like any normal, safety-conscious person, I was watching where my feet were about to step as I left the café at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art.. I did not see the – tastefully faint – safety strip in the glass wall. Whack! My forehead hit the glass. Wham! The back of my hand hit the glass. Bam! My knee hit the glass. Splash! My latte crashed to the floor. Read more.