.....Advertisement.....
.....Advertisement.....

Features

  • El Dia de los Muertos (the day of the dead) is not scary.It’s not morbid and it’s not violent.Also, it’s not Halloween.Its purpose is simple: to remember with joy and love the lives of those who have passed into death. Perhaps it’s more like Memorial Day.

  • A nine-minute video about the restoration of murals at Ilfeld Auditorium will be on view at the Las Vegas City Museum through the end of October.

    The video can be seen in the museum’s main gallery. The murals, painted by Brooks Willis, were created as part of the New Deal-era programs that put artists and craftspeople to work during the Great Depression of the 1930s. The City Museum is showing the video in connection with the New Deal 75th Anniversary Celebration.

    The video, which was produced by Miriam Langer and Dustin Bingham, includes footage of the restoration.

  • What are dreams? Scientifically, dreams are our subconscious mind that keeps playing in our sleep. But can dreams mean more than what science can explain?

    The dreams we have can be a sign of good or bad things to happen. Sometimes even things that might change our life.

    Some dreams are frightening and they can change how a person sees life.

    Just like deja vu. Have you ever had deja vu and you know what is about to happen, so you say or do something that you’ve seen yourself doing? Is that our subconscious mind?

  • The late Pope John Paul II had repeatedly called for the abolition of the state-administered death penalty. His voice along with many other voices was heard in Europe, and the EU abolished the death penalty. In 2005, during Holy Week, the National Conference of Catholic Bishops called for the abolition of the death penalty, and the group initiated a national campaign to educate Catholics on this issue.

  • For the first time ever, I went to see the burning of the famous Zozobra, also known as Old Man Gloom.

    I have always been afraid of him.

    The first time I remember seeing him was at the mall in Santa Fe. He was huge, with green circles around his red eyes and his white suit with blue buttons and a blue tie. He terrified me.

    I guess it might of been because he reminded me of Chucky the killer doll.

  • Wall street in tatters. Bank failures, right and left. Foreclosures. Drought. A time of financial crisis.

    While this may sound as current as the morning news, it was also the dawn of the Great Depression.

    In 1929, the U.S. economy tanked. Bankers and stockbrokers were diving out of windows. Farmers lost their farms and city folk lost their homes to foreclosure. It was a terrible time, and it seemed there would be no end to it. But in 1933, President Franklin Delano Roosevelt took office — and FDR had a New Deal for America.

  • The remaining animals of The Animal Support Center have a place to live. Jessica Taylor, owner of Green Gates Sanctuary in Ilfeld, N.M., is willing to care for and socialize the remaining animals of TASC so that they can be adopted to loving homes. Green Gates is a separate entity from TASC and will continue to exist as an educational center and a much needed sanctuary when all TASC animals are adopted.

  • Labor Day weekend was full of exciting happenings. Not forgetting to mention that indeed we got lost in a mountain with a boat. We spent 13 hours driving all over the mountains of Colorado looking for the place where we were supposed to camp.

    But I never thought getting lost would be as much fun as it was.

    While we were stuck in the truck together, we sang and my uncle told jokes and would ask me, “So, is being lost with me better than being at home?” I had to laugh because my answer would always be “Yes.”

  • Meredith Britt’s work in the upcoming show, “el arte moderno,” invokes a soft but colorful serenity, as though no sound plays a part in the art making. A person of few words with a dry sense of humor and a quiet demeanor, Britt seems quite comfortable in the company of only her paints and canvas.

  • On Saturday, from 11 a.m. to 2 p.m. at Carnegie Library Park, local activists will team up with featured speaker Magdaleno Rose Avila to help kindle the struggle for justice in Las Vegas.

    Magdaleno Rose Avila grew up in an immigrant family, in southern Colorado where he faced poverty, limited education, stereotyping, drugs, and gangs.

  • The reason people want to come to the Wildlife Refuge is because we miss our mother — the mother of us all, Mother Nature — according to Jan Arrott at the Las Vegas National Wildlife Refuge. Jan and other members of the Friends of the Las Vegas National Wildlife Refuge are there for the birds and other wildlife because people need that connection. Human beings long for something that connects us with our roots in nature, with soaring eagles and smooth-sailing cranes.

  • The Concert of the Birds is an annual musical festival that benefits The Las Vegas National Wildlife Refuge. The Concert of the Birds has been going on for four years and is hosted by The Friends of the Las Vegas National Wild Life Refuge. Janice Arrott is the organizer.

    “We try and have local Northern New Mexico musicians.” Arrott said. For the past four years there have been a variety of musicians. This year, Los Tropicales is playing.

  • The National Park Service and Fort Union National Monument announces its’ monthly “Glimpses of the Past” presentation. The program will be held at the CCHP/Santa Fe Trail Interpretive Center, 116 Bridge St., in Las Vegas, Thursday, Sept. 18 at 7 p.m.

  • It was the early 13th century, in the Sierra Morena mountains north of Seville. The Spanish were rebelling against centuries-old occupation by the Moors.

    The Spanish soldiers were at a standstill, the Moors controlling all the passes leading to their stronghold, but a shepherd named Martin Alhaja turned the tide — he told the Spanish soldiers of a secret passage, and marked the entrance with the skull of a cow.

  • One of the truisms of permaculture is that problems can be solutions. We tend to view problems in a vacuum, but this is often the result of a limited perspective, and of our failure to ask big enough questions. It is a good discipline, in gardening and in all endeavors, to look at what we believe is a problem, and ask ourselves whether there is some other problem to which the problem before us is a solution.

  • People are always asking me, “Why do you want to leave?” ‘Why would you rather go to Albuquerque when you graduate?’

    Its simple, there is absolutely nothing to do here. There is nothing that can be offered to young adults besides Highlands and Luna. I have to say, though, Highland and Luna can offer a very good education but besides that, there really isn’t much here.

    Speaking as a student and a kid that grew up here in Las Vegas, there isn’t really much that the kids can do.

  • A massive football player, his uniform black, heavy, robotic, runs through a modern city, a flutter of torn books beneath spiked shoes.

    He carries a graduation cap in one hand, stolen from the head of a statued scholar, the other hand extended in an evil claw toward a group of diminutive young children sitting at simple desk — a hawk ready to pluck his prey. The city ignores the indignity; it crowds the horizon with shiny righteousness, a new stadium earning center stage, separating education from progress.

  • Yunus Peer remembers the sting of apartheid in the early ‘70s when he was 13 years old and ranked the No. 2 tennis player among non-whites in South Africa. An Indian, he wanted to compete against all talented players his age, to swing the racket to the best of his ability across the court from any worthy opponent.

  • Before I could afford a car, I walked as fast as I could those mornings I was late for work. I jumped over the cracks in Carnegie Park’s sidewalk, letting my eye catch the echo of sun against lone blue spruce.

    Before I owned a cell phone, my afternoons resonated with natural silence, with only the crack of frog and cricket against ear. Before I bought a computer, my hands knew how to hold a pen, how to round my letters with legible panache. Today, my body forgets the simple, the sane.

  • A tall man in a pink Nehru shirt and wrinkled linen slacks stood at the edge of Ilfeld Auditorium’s stage, his head and shoulders cocked at an awkward angle, no other musicians at his side. He held a violin, a instrument that seemed tiny, insignificant, compared to his large frame. The audience shuffled program and purse as he lifted the wooden body to his chin in a gentle arc.