- Written by Administrator
Best Emerging Writer Nominations | 2013 Showcase Awards Finalists
Alberta Magazine Publishers Association
Born and raised under the Third Reich, My grandma lived at the centre of Nazi Germany. Even after marrying a British Soldier, she held allegiance to Hitler, And her conviction left me wondering,
“Who was she really?”
More feature stories from Profiles West, Summer 2012
by Tanis Brown
My grandfather had surgery and ended up with delirium. Worse, he was then drugged without our knowledge. Then we fought back against Risperidone and the system.
Trapped in the ‘Friend Zone’
by Andrew Szekeres
She met me in a silky, blue nightie and invited me to her bed. What do you think happened next?
Ogden vs. Lake Bonavista
by Jodi Egan
My parents moved us to a bigger house with a nicer lawn, and more refined neighbours. Yet, it’s rough, illogical Ogden that I still miss.
Relationship Abuse: A Solo Battle
By Jenica Foster
He flirted with other girls, told her she looked ugly, needed to lose weight. The police came to save her. In response, she agreed to marry him.
- Written by LANDON WESLEY
Next month, Buzan begins university with a new outlook after beating back leukemia in record time
Have you ever had that feeling that things in your life are too good to be true?
This was the case for 20-year-old Dillon Buzan who had just spent his summer working at Our Lady Queen of Peace Ranch near Bragg Creek as a camp counselor. It was the best job he ever had, as it gave him a chance to work outdoors, be physically active and develop new friendships. He also met a fellow counselor named Katie Pierard, who became his girlfriend.
"It was the best time of my life," he says.
As camp was coming to an end, Buzan anticipated starting Mount Royal University.
That was until he noticed a lump on his neck during the last few weeks of summer. Everyone at camp told him it was likely just a swollen lymph node, nothing to worry about.
- Written by VERONICA POCZA
Stacie-Rae Weir helps women post-mastectomy
It's a quiet afternoon inside Stacie-Rae Weir's studio, Sacred Space. The artist, making herself comfortable at her "second home," leans back in her desk chair. She turns up the metal music she's selected from her sleek apple desktop, acknowledging that it may clash with the intended ambiance of the studio.
The quaint and clean space is calm and inviting, painted with pastel colors and immersed in soft scents. It feels perfectly suitable for healing services. Few may realize the main service is tattooing, specifically for women seeking areola — the area of the nipple that is removed during a mastectomy — reconstructive services.
Weir tucks her bright red-streaked hair behind her pierced and stretched ears, placing her head in her hands. Her colourful arms are a portfolio of art and read the words "luck" and "love" when placed together. She takes a deep breath.