Behind The Lens: Jennifer’s Story

Behind The Lens: Jennifer’s Story

One: She was adopted.

Two: Her older brother was taken to the adoptive home with her and her twin brother. But then he was taken to another family after three weeks. That was a big blow.

Three: Her adopted mother is fickle in her love. They’re currently not on speaking terms.

Four (this is where her voice gets some emotion): She still misses her.

 

The City He Calls Home: Denver Artist Price Davis' Story

The City He Calls Home: Denver Artist Price Davis' Story

Price Davis got to the point where, while he was financially successful in his other business realms, he asked himself the question: Do you want to own tons of places? Or do you want to inspire tons of people?

It was clear to him then he wants to inspire.

While he sees everything he does as being a part of his artistry, he still points out that he didnt return to pursuing a full-time career in sculpture until about a year ago when he started work on the Lily.

Everything Ive done has been to get back to sculpture.

 

A Career of Following Her Gut - Dena's Story

A Career of Following Her Gut - Dena's Story

“EXCLUSIVE SNEAK PEAK: HANK HALDEMAN…” is spread in bold letters across the page.

H.R. Haldeman was the Secretary of State during the Nixon Watergate scandal, and served time in prison for involvement.

She turns back and begins to tell the story: “One of my friends in the industry is Hank Haldeman. And I met Hank in the early 90s. The first time I met him, I said, ’Haldeman, that’s not a very common name. Are you related to H.R.?’ 

“‘And he said, ‘That’s my dad,’” Dena continues. 

Soon, though, Dena started to hear this edict in the industry: Never talk to Hank about his dad. It was mantra repeated for years.

 

In the Valley - Lisa's Story

In the Valley - Lisa's Story

A borrowed backpack. Borrowed sleeping bag. Borrowed sleeping pad. Borrowed sweater and sweatpants. The clothes on her back. $100. That’s what she had when she set off for Yosemite with strangers in the summer of 2007.

Lisa was a wandering 18-year-old buying time until October when she’d leave for military basic training. And she didn’t trust anyone to be good to her, to take care of her.

She was barely out of high school and on the verge of nothing — stuck in the valley between somethings. 

The first something, the one that broke, the one she didn’t have anymore, that was everything she’d called “home.”