Carlos Santana adjusts the hood of his custom-printed Bob Marley sweatshirt and elaborates on Mexican food. “I think the dimension of flavors is so wide, it’s like a parade of roses,” he says.
The iconic Latin guitarist and longtime Marin County resident is celebrating Read more . . .
This article appeared on page D - 1 of the San Francisco Chronicle
Up on Bradford Mountain at the western edge of Sonoma’s Dry Creek Valley, two pigs lord over a block of Syrah. The hogs, Paté and Bacon, are being raised sustainably amongst the grapevines; their owners will barbecue them in a few weeks to mark the release of their first wine.
The new label, Verge, is made by Michel-Schlumberger winemaker Mike Brunson. Along with his partner, Jay Kell, Brunson puts several of Schlumberger’s philosophies to work. Read more . . .
This article appeared on page F - 2 of the San Francisco Chronicle
One of the things that makes Don’t-call-it-Frisco such a fine place is the disproportionate ratio of successful slackers to office drones who live here. You know the type: they sleep in until 10, read the whole newspaper over a bagel and coffee, get some sort of exercise, and then spend the rest of the day creatively earning money. Read more . . .
(10-19) 04:00 PST Buenos Aires, Argentina — Winding your way through the dusty eastern foothills of the Argentine Andes mountains, your skin could turn to sandpaper. Red dust swirls through closed car vents, the sun beats down through the thin air, and the high altitude sucks the moisture out of everything. This 125-mile wine route Read More . . .
In Pen and Ink: how outsiders shape culture and art
Published in the SF Weekly (cover story)
December 27, 2006
By Ella Lawrence
Some artists create best in crowded cafes, the burbling noise of city life rolling over their shoulders as they hunch over their work, a forgotten latte cooling beside them; others require complete silence. Some artists work best in huge, wide-open spaces; others prefer to be closed in, no pretty views to divert attention.
Artist William Noguera’s preferred method is to fold a wool blanket on top of an upside-down five-gallon bucket. It supports his large frame as he pushes his mattress to the side. Bent over the bed frame, he lays down layer after layer of dots. From his drafting pen to the 20-by-30-foot Strathmore paper, the ink transforms a blank page to a hyperrealistic photo-image after hundreds of hours of painstaking labor.
He has the time to spare. Read More . . .
It’s 4:30pm, and I am part of a group of good-looking 20-somethings who traipse through the back door of a four-star restaurant, past a congregation of empty produce boxes, to punch in at the time clock. We pass along a line of cooks and sous-chefs who may ignore us, scowl at us, leer at us or give us a casual nod, depending on the mod in the kitchen and who is coming through the door. Read more . . .