Kitty and Daniel Daly of Riverhead, St. Mary’s Bay, had 12 children, six of whom were very tall and six of whom had achondroplasia, or dwarfism. Their great-grandaughter (and great-niece), songwriter Diana Daly, dancer-actor Louise Moyes, and director Anne Troake tell their stories through images, laughter, and a bit of Carlton Showband at LSPU Hall from Feb. 25 to 27, 2016.
by Orin Isaacs
A professional musician without swagger is like a guitarist who can’t play the first bar of Sweet Home Alabama. There are not many of them around. Self-confidence plays a significant role in success but there are plenty of examples of musicians who are drunk on swagger. Read the confessions of a music industry veteran and how overconfidence almost cost him the job.
by Jessica Mora
Salt Petal, if you haven’t yet heard, is the tropical rock band that has been establishing themselves as LA’s Latin Dance pop darlings. Playing everywhere from major festivals to local venues, they win over their audience at every performance.
Continue reading Salt Petal – Por La Lunaby Richard Crouse – Toronto, Ontario, Canada
A few years ago I hosted some events at Fan Expo in Toronto. In between shows I sat in the greenroom, usually with my face buried in a newspaper or a book. One afternoon as I sat reading I felt someone come sit at the table with me. They didn’t say anything and I didn’t look up. It was so crazy busy on the floor; everyone was enjoying the relative tranquility of the greenroom and staying to themselves.
by Guy Cools
When I arrived in Paris last Sunday, Jan 11, in the aftermath of last week’s terrorist attack on Charlie Hebdo and the largest public manifestation of solidarity in France since the liberation at the end of WWII, I was struck by the calmness and serenity that both the city and its people radiated.
The Core Magazine Beer Pong Champion is hell-bent on leaving the basement this Halloween, so you better hold on tight to your Skittles.
I see a photograph of myself. In it I was on the bus travelling north to Tehran. We were going to visit friends, but that is not so important to the story. I was sitting alone because he was not talking to me. We were driving through the flat, dry landscape of my dreams, like the movies. I was wearing a maghnae, like a schoolgirl would wear, or a nun’s wimple. It’s tight around my face, but easier than wrestling with a headscarf that slides off my hair too easily. This particular day there was a stray hair sticking out, under my chin. I remember trying to locate it, unsuccessfully. It was troubling me. In the photograph I can see it, under my chin. That little hair sticking out reminds me of how I felt that day. Resigned. As much as I may have tried to tame the stray bits, one always found its way out of its cover.
