One of the beauties of living here is you can grow your own herbs, food and flowers year 'round -- and landscape your home yourself. (There are classes at Miami Dade College, Fairchild Tropical Gardens and the University of Florida Agricultural Extension office in the Redland addressing these interests as well as specializations like growing mangos, palms or your own organic vegetable garden.)
A very different crowd will be filing into the Adrienne Arsht Center’s Knight Concert Hall this weekend. Instead of the usual group, predominately made up of women between 55 and 65 years old, swarms of 18- to 25-year-old boys will be packing the seats.
But they aren’t coming for Mozart or Beethoven. They’re coming to hear the music of a popular, 25-year-old video-game series, called Final Fantasy, performed by an orchestra.
If you missed our Twitter chat about Jewish cuisine and Jewish delis, catch the recap here.
Ted Merwin didn't set out to become a deli historian. About ten years ago, Merwin was working on his Ph.D. dissertation about the popular culture of second generation Eastern European Jews -- such as vaudeville and silent comedy -- in 1920s New York.
If you’ve spent any time on the MacArthur Causeway this past year, you’ve seen the 200-foot tall, shimmying silhouette of the dancing lady on the side of the Intercontinental Hotel.
The giant, multi-colored light display on the side of the building danced into our hearts – or danced us into ire—last December. Whether you love or hate the dancing lady, she’s become a staple of the Miami skyline.
But now, the lady and her suggestive moves are about to be retired. The hotel is holding auditions for her replacement Thursday and Friday, Nov. 21 and 22.
The 30th anniversary of the Miami Book Fair International is upon us. In honor of this great event, our tireless staff has gone through the Fairgoer's Guide and each picked out what he or she won't be missing this year.
Please share what you'll be looking forward to in the comments. Maybe we'll run into each other at the WLRN booth.
From our prior literary projects, we know South Florida has a lot of aspiring bards. So in celebration of the 30th anniversary of the Miami Book Fair International, we asked you to help us tweet-compose a poem.
Richard Blanco -- a Miami-raised poet who wrote the presidential inaugural poem this year -- started us off with the first line: "Why the stars? Well, just look up, look"
We left the rest up to you. Read the result below.
Just east of the I-95 in Wynwood, on Northwest 24th Street, you'll notice a new, bright-orange mural is in the works. It's not a famed, European street artist's Art Basel-commissioned piece. It's Wynwood Brewing Company's way of welcoming Basel throngs to Miami's first brewery.
When Sherman Alexie comes to Miami Book Fair International, he enjoys the visuals.
“It’s like putting a bunch of geeky English professors in Bermuda shorts,” Alexie says. “I like the notion of all that energy surrounding books.”
Alexie is the author of award-winning novels, poetry and short-story collections about Indian characters living on and off modern-day reservations. His protagonists frequently share a deep, obsessive love of books and basketball.
That’s what Miriam Auerbach was thinking about 10 years ago while watching a television marathon of the iconic detective films starring Clint Eastwood.
“Suddenly I had a vision of Dirty Harry as a woman. So she was born,” says Auerbach.
Three years later, Auerbach published “Dirty Harriet,” the first in a series of satirical mystery novels. The protagonist is Harriet Horowitz, a gun-toting, Harley-riding former Boca Raton socialite who becomes a crime-fighter.
This week, President Obama bestowed the nation's highest civilian honor on 16 celebrated Americans, one of them a Cuban-American widely considered one of the world's greatest living jazz artists.
The cover of Arturo Sandoval's 1991 album "Flight to Freedom" features a photo of the musician wearing a smart suit and a radiant smile, his right hand gripping his trumpet, his left curled into a triumphant fist. Just one year before the release of that album, Sandoval was living in Cuba under the Castro regime.
I don’t remember being told Woodrow Wilson was my great-great-grandfather. It was a fact I grew up with. A picture of my newborn grandfather, the last child ever born in the White House, being gazed at by mighty Woodrow, hung in the staircase of my parents’ home.
Beside it was a Wilson campaign poster from which he looked through his iconic pince-nez glasses and over his long, angular nose at me. But the person I was named after was, in many ways, a mystery.
There was, perhaps, a notion 30 years ago that any reading done by anyone in Miami mainly consisted of a paperback on a beach, some suntan oil and very little else. But a small group of people felt differently.
So when the Miami-Dade County Public Library system wanted to celebrate its newest building, the idea of a book fair was born. "Books By The Bay," it was first called, conceived in 1984 as a few displays of books, tablecloths flapping in the breeze at Bayfront Park.