At the Trillion Space

I’m standing on the Marquette overpass Downtown one evening, drawing the skyline, when a dark rain cloud creeps up on me from behind.

Ossy Werner

The Exonerated at the Adobe Theater

The American public's widespread support of the death penalty is a badge of shame for multiple reasons. One of the most poignant is the irrefutable fact that innocent people are all too often imprisoned—and in some cases even murdered—by the state.

Teatro Nuevo México’s production of The Wonderful Ice Cream Suit runs this weekend at the National Hispanic Cultural Center.

National Hispanic Cultural Center

The Wonderful Ice Cream Suit, a story by Ray Bradbury, revolves around a conman named Gomez and his desire for a $60 white suit. Gomez and five other men pool their money to buy the suit. They then take turns wearing it, and it magically transforms each into the man he dreams of being. The Wonderful Ice Cream Suit will be playing at the National Hispanic Cultural Center, 1701 Fourth Street SW, Aug. 31 to Sept. 2, at 8 p.m. A free community outreach performance will be performed on Wednesday, Aug. 30, at 2 p.m. Tickets are $15, $20, $25. 883-7800, ticketmaster.com.

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Untitled by Rebecca Salazar

Sol Arts

Rebecca Salazar’s movie-like childhood is rolling around inside her head, giving her a case of extreme nostalgia. She expresses her skewed sentimentality through painting. Her canvases are hanging at the Sol Arts Performance Space and Gallery (712 Central SE), and a reception will be held on Saturday, Aug. 26, from 6 to 8 p.m. Also at Sol Arts this weekend is Loose Women of Low Character, a theatrical collaboration between Brandy Slagle and Tifanie McQueen that will run through Sept. 17. Fridays and Saturdays at 8 p.m., Sundays at 2 p.m. $10 general, $8 students. A performance on Thursday, Aug. 31, at 8 p.m. will be a pay-what-you-can show. (There will be no performance on Sunday, Sept. 3.) For more information on either of these events, call 244-0049.

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A conversation with Daniel Woodrell

Shortly after moving back to his native Missouri Ozarks, novelist Daniel Woodrell realized he might need to give his wife, who hails from Cleveland, a few social pointers. “You are going to go into the store and try to write a check to pay for the groceries,” he recalls telling her. “And somebody is going to look at you and say, ‘Who are your people?’ I told her who to say—my grandparents—and her checks were always cleared.”