A new reality show spotlights the Valley real estate scene and a local foreclosure kingpin.
Doug Hopkins, self-styled “King of the East Valley” for his 20-year reign over the Valley real estate market, has yet another jewel to add to his crown: reality TV stardom.
The Valley’s homegrown film industry relies on the kindness of strangers. Preferably, rich ones.
Where money is concerned, Arizona is no different than Tinseltown – it’s the thing that talks when you-know-what walks. Financing is the most elusive element of any movie project – except maybe a good script – and therefore the greenbacked flickfunder, more commonly known as the executive producer, is one of the rarest birds in Arizona, and one of the shyest.
An industrious West Valley teen positions himself to be the next Bill Nye-style pop science guru.
Alec Owens cannot recall his very first question about the scientific mysteries of the universe. “Something like, ‘Where do rocks come from?’” the spiky-haired 13-year-old says. “What I do remember is going to an adult for an answer, getting an answer that wasn’t right, and the feeling you get when you’re like, ‘This is not a good answer.’”
Born with a condition that limits use of his arms and legs, “mouth painter” Kirk O’Hara has to be creative both on and off the canvas.
Artist Kirk O’Hara leans forward, adding the finishing touches to a painting of a blond boy wearing leg braces and gripping crutches. Next to the boy is a brown dog, tongue out and tail wagging. The dog is in a wheelchair. As O’Hara makes a stroke through the boy’s hair, his face hovers so close to the canvas he’s almost cheek-to-cheek with his subject. For a second, it looks like he’s going to crawl head-first into the painting. In a sense, he’s already there: Like the boy and his dog, O’Hara is disabled. This painting is the first in a series of handicapped subjects titled Empathy.
Champion mounted markswoman Annie Bianco-Ellett knows her shoot.
It’s Sunday morning at the Arizona State Championships of the Cowboy Mounted Shooting Association. One after another, the cowboys and cowgirls ride and shoot. While they wait for the signal, their restless mounts execute tight little circles, seeming almost to pirouette with eagerness. At last the buzzer sounds, and the contestants gallop into the covered arena at Horseshoe Park in Queen Creek, toward a diagonal row of 10 tall white pylons, each with a red or blue balloon on top.