Search results for

President Trump has proposed slashing federal scientific funding. Economists say the long-term consequences could be dire.

The U.S. government's road safety agency is investigating Tesla's “Full Self-Driving” system after getting reports of crashes in low-visibility conditions, including one that killed a pedestrian.

"JULIAN TAN: END TRANCES" Jan. 18–April 19, 2025 Opening Reception: Friday, January 17, 5:30–7:30 p.m. Gallery Walk-through: Saturday, January 18, 11 a.m., free Artist Talk: Thursday, February 27, 6 p.m. reception; 6:30 p.m. lecture, $15/ 20/ 5 “The gaze is ours to give, and the journey is ours to take.”—Chat GPT analyzing "End Trances" For his exhibition "End Trances," Los Angeles–based painter Julian Tan has created a body of work centered on a blinding, mysterious light in the sky and humans’ moments of wonder, panic, and solace as they witness it. In creating these paintings, Tan was thinking about recent trends including the use of AI in art making, the vastness of knowledge at our fingertips in a world dominated by instant information, public fascination with unidentified aerial phenomena, and a pervasive sense of being at the precipice of something—whether the end of the world or a cultural shift we have yet to understand as a society. The unknown light offers us all a glimpse of our own humanity, a sublime focal point in each work that remains open to interpretation. Julian’s work reflects his personal experiences and his fascination with the intersection of history, politics, and cultural change. As a second-generation Chinese American, the tension of not fully belonging has given him a unique perspective, one that informs his exploration of identity, culture, and the way people navigate a rapidly changing world. His paintings aim to capture the present while reflecting on the past and imagining the future, offering a lens through which viewers can connect with shared experiences and universal questions. In his BFA studies at the University of Tennessee, Chattanooga, Tan immersed himself in foundational principles of design, art history, and critical theory, setting the stage for a serious pursuit of painting and a life as an artist. While the program introduced him to conceptual thinking and problem-solving, it was the painters in the program and the drawing classes that left the biggest impression on him. He went on to earn an MFA at the University of California, Davis, dedicating himself to refining his techniques and developing an original visual language. Tan spent most of his time at UC Davis deeply immersed in understanding and creating abstract painting and sculpture. While he loved earnestly creating and looking at abstraction, he began questioning whether it could express the ideas he wanted to communicate. This challenge led him to rethink his approach and focus on work that carried more personal and cultural meaning. Painting became a way for him to say things he felt couldn’t be said with words. Now, working from his own studio, Tan is propelled by questions of the future, universal truths, and a desire to create works that capture a “mirror’s gaze of the near future.” Alongside his wife and dogs, Oso and Sumi, he continues his search for expression that resonates with universal truths about the human experience. Julian Tan on Instagram

Whether we were paying attention or not, 2024 was filled with good news. In case you weren't, NPR's member stations have been keeping track. Here are some of the stories that made us smile this year.

McNeese and Drake universities stun their heavily favored opponents as the NCAA men's and women's basketball tournaments roll into their first weekend of play.

From the organizers: Oolong Gallery presents: Amy Pachowicz Gilded Age February 7 – March 10, 2025 Opening Reception: February 7, 6–8 p.m. Gallery Hours: Wed – Sat 11 a.m. – 5 p.m. Appointments advised: info@oolongallery.com | +1 858 229 2788 Oolong Gallery is pleased to present Gilded Age, a solo exhibition by San Diego artist Amy Pachowicz. Through a series of evocative botanical paintings and large and small-scale collages, Pachowicz explores themes of nostalgia, impermanence, desire, death and sensuality, as well as the dissonance between personal memory and the larger world’s turbulence. Pachowicz’s delicate botanical renderings depict fragments of life—branches, feathers, and leaves—suspended in rich fields of color, relics of the natural world that once pulsed with vitality but now exist as remnants of what was. The artist grapples with the tension between artistic creation and the realities of global suffering, reflecting on what it means to live and create amid conflict and loss. “I hang bundles of cut plants in my studio: flowers, sage, my neighbors weeds that grew four feet high, even a found feather. I dry them, sketch them and draw them in a large format. I draw them alone against a background of color. These are large scale oil stick drawings of relics suspended in space; remnants of the life that once flowed through them.” Her collages, constructed from carefully sourced print media spanning the 1960s through the 1980s, are deeply personal yet universally resonant. Drawing from childhood encyclopedias, vintage magazines, and family ephemera—including materials from her father’s career as a traveling encyclopedia salesman—Pachowicz weaves together a visual narrative of a world once filled with analog wonder, before the digital age redefined the way we consume imagery and knowledge. The muted tones and textures of these compositions stand in stark contrast to the oversaturated, pixelated media landscape of today. “I compile collages of print media from my childhood and nostalgic images I’ve collected. 1980’s Penthouse, our family encyclopedia set (my father was a traveling encyclopedia salesman back in the 70’s), teen beat magazines and Charlie’s Angels posters, my grandmother’s Betty Crocker cookbook; the things of a girl growing up in a previous era of California, all make it into the collages. I remember a time when printed media had a feeling of value. I grew up reading books and playing in canyons, feeling grass and sun and skinned knees on concrete. The digital age and computerized images are different." "Color pictures from the 1967 encyclopedia Britannica are rich and soft; nuanced teals, magentas, mint greens and lilacs entertained me. Color photos today are full of primary reds, blues and yellows. I glance and look away. It must have something to do with a change in printing and inks. The encyclopedia I looked at as a child also had black and white images of far off places. A distant island, an uninhabited beach, an arctic glacier photographed in a way where it looked like an explorer was approaching for the first time; discovering a new land. Today the world feels overexposed from digital advertising.” Amy Pachowicz (born 1968) was raised in San Diego and is working with themes of nostalgia and nature. She studied archaeology and graduated from UCSD in 1996 with a minor in studio painting following a year at Barnard College, Columbia University, NY. Pachowicz’s practice is informed by an early academic foundation in archaeology, a discipline that continues to shape her exploration of artifacts—whether organic or printed—as vessels of memory and meaning. Her work has been exhibited at Oolong Gallery in Encinitas, juried exhibitions at the Athenaeum in La Jolla, and numerous group shows across San Diego since the late 1990s, including ICE Gallery in 2002.

Keyser in West Virginia represents a national shift in American energy production. And in a town that was defined by coal for generations, change can be difficult.

Congress passed the tax cut and spending megabill with President Trump's legislative priorities which includes new tax exemptions for tipped hourly workers. But how will it work?

Flamingos look silly when they eat, but new research suggests they're actually being smart.

The New Jersey Democrat took the podium to criticize the Trump administration's policies at 7 p.m. Monday. He ended his marathon speech shortly after 8 p.m. on Tuesday, breaking a decades-old record.