For this adventure, you only need to be able to do one thing. “If you can follow directions, you can get in a boat,” says Brewster Schenck, who has quadriplegia and has cruised with Challenged Sailors—a nonprofit that offers free adaptive sailing to people with disabilities—for the past five years.
On an overcast Friday afternoon, a group of 17 huddles on Harbor Island’s docks, home to eight specially designed Martin16 sailboats. The two-person vessels are weighted so they can’t tip over. Even if they filled with water, they wouldn’t sink. The sails are controlled by two ropes and the rudder by a joystick, so the boater can sail without ever having to leave their seat. These boats can even be fitted with technology that allows sailors who can’t use their limbs to control the boat with their breath. As a precaution, a volunteer sailor travels in the seat behind.
Photo Credit: Erica Joan
The adapted boats give participants freedom they don’t always experience on land. Volunteer Dale Burchby recalls a woman who went sailing with them after a catastrophic accident that rendered her suddenly needing a wheelchair. Looking out at the bay, she asked, “Where do we go?”
Her companion sailor said, “Anywhere you want.”
She burst into tears.
Wheelchairs, walkers, and scooters stay on the docks, explains Challenged Sailors President Peter Phillips, who, because of nerve damage caused by Guillain-Barré syndrome, needs leg braces and a walker to get around.
“When I’m walking, I’m experiencing pain. I can’t go fast,” he says. But out on the bay, “there are no limitations—it’s just the boat and the wind and the water.”
Photo Credit: Erica Joan Penny Anders feeling the stoke after a successful day on the sea.
Back on the dock, Penny Anders, who became paraplegic after an accident two years ago, gets ready to be lowered by a hoist into her boat. She beams as she ducks beneath the boom and takes control of the helm. “You go so fast [when you’re sailing]—you’re just flying,” Anders says. The sport has been a source of joy for her in what has been a difficult transition, she adds.
“It saved me, too,” says Leah Gualtieri, her volunteer companion sailor, who took up sailing after a divorce. “Once you’re out there, you don’t want to not be out there.”
Mara Altman is the author of two nonfiction books, Thanks for Coming and Gross Anatomy: Dispatches from the Front (and Back), which was a semi-finalist for the Thurber Prize for American Humor. Altman also wrote eight best-selling Kindle Singles and has written for publications such as The New York Times and New York Magazine. Earlier in her career, she was a staff writer for The Village Voice and daily newspapers in India and Thailand. She lives in North Park with her husband and twins.
Divorce, adjusting to single motherhood or coparenting, and the unexpected adjustments that come with it can turn even the most put-together woman’s life upside down. For many, these shifts trigger a profound loss of identity as that chapter of life officially comes to an end.
While Elena Barbour was navigating a divorce and raising two young children, other women in her circle shared similar experiences—one, a high-powered attorney, said divorce was the hardest thing she’d ever gone through. Barbour realized that women like them who’d gone through divorce, separation, or trauma needed support, but unless they qualified for low-income assistance or could pay top dollar for private services, there weren’t a lot of options. That led to the creation of the Luma Initiative, a nonprofit organization that aims to connect women with the practical resources needed to rebuild after a major life transition. The organization is currently developing its programming and plans to open to its first (already full) three-month cohort of women this fall.
“I consider myself a very strong, competent woman, but what I went through shook me,” Barbour says. “[There were] all these things that I did not expect, and that a lot of people looking from the outside couldn’t see necessarily. It was hard to relate. And I found that after coming out of this divorce, I needed to reshift my community a little bit because the challenges and the life stage of where I was compared to where they were now was just so different—even though I was surrounded by people, I felt very alone.
Courtesy of Luma Initiative
“So [we’re] trying to create that sense of community in this place for women to be like, ‘All these women are going through something similar and when I talk with them, I don’t feel so alone and I can let go of some of the negative feelings I’m feeling, and I can […] start to rebuild.’”
Luma Initiative’s program will include licensed therapist-guided support groups, and support via financial literacy advisors, life coaches who specialize in career building, and family law attorneys, plus therapeutic yoga at sister business Luma Yoga. They’ll also work with other nonprofit organizations as needed to create a “one-stop, well-rounded, holistic approach to supporting women who are going through this really big transition of life,” Barbour explains.
Barbour says Luma Yoga Studio in Little Italy will serve as Luma Initiative’s physical base, transforming into a familiar community-centered home away from home where women can feel safe. She leaned into yoga and the breathwork, meditation, and mindfulness that often come with the practice to get through tough times, and carries those tools with her “off the mat.” She hopes that other women will find that same sense of nervous system regulation. She emphasizes that Luma Initiative and Luma Yoga work as an ecosystem that provides both wellness and tangible support.
“The goal with Luma Initiative will be to help these women come back to themselves and their identity through community, and use community as a platform to rebuild,” she says.
Sarah Sapeda is San Diego Magazine’s Custom Content Editor. In her 15 years in San Diego journalism, she has covered charitable events, health care, education, crime, current events, and more.
Edna Harper asked for one thing before she died: that the next owner of her iconic Mission Hills home keep the street-facing “garden.” Which is essentially asking the future residents to be curators of a whimsical and obsessive, delightful and strange, classic, cartoony and slightly unhinged sculpture museum. Harper, who died in January at the age of 87, poured her heart into this topiary bonanza, and it’s right there for everyone to see.
Like thousands (or millions, there’s no formal estimation) of others, I had scrolled through the photos of this topiary fantasia before I ever stood in front of it. As of this writing, Harper’s Topiary Garden is No. 227 of 2,686 Things to Do in San Diego on Tripadvisor, making it a popular tourist stop between fish tacos, a day at the beach, and a stroll in nearby Presidio Park. But crowdsourced photos quickly snapped in direct overhead sunlight tend to flatten the shapes that, while meticulously manicured, refuse to behave. In person, Harper’s figures seem to be in motion and, given that they’re sculpted out of bushes, they literally are. (I’d love to see a maintenance timelapse.)
Animals emerge out of shrubs as if they have impish ideas. A fanciful whale, a man in a sombrero, a random spiral twisting skyward, otherworldly creatures that defy categorization—all of these exist together in a neatly trimmed cascade pouring down the steep front slope of the property.
You don’t accidentally end up with a yard like this. You decide to create it and choose to cultivate it, and then you keep deciding and cultivating—for decades.
Although a consistent parade of looky-loos have visited over the years, most have never been inside the home, which is on the market for the first time since Harper and her husband, Alex (who died in 2020), bought it in 1969.
Courtesy of Christopher Delgado
“It was and is a landmark,” says Christopher Delgado, Harper’s cousin and trustee of her estate. “She specialized in Chinese brush art and Japanese art called ‘sumi-e,’ a form of Zen art. She was a creator … she was very, very talented.”
I can’t stop thinking about Harper, sitting at the kitchen window, looking down at her masterpiece and the watchers watching it. The image of Harper enjoying the joy the public took from her handiwork makes me want to understand the woman behind the work. Because topiary, as an art form, has always been a little… loaded.
Topiary has always had a bit of an identity crisis—and that’s part of its charm.
When I think of topiary, I immediately think: Fancy. French bourgeoisie. Palace of Versailles. Mais non! Topiary has its origins in Rome. According to the Center forArchitecture, the word “topiary” has its origins in late 16th century English, which combines the Greek word “topos” for place and the Latin word “topiarius” for ornamental gardner.
Photo Credit: Casiel Sanchez
Topiary started as a flex, really. A Julius-Caesar-adjacent pastime for the most ancient one-percenters; an expression accessible only to those with land, labor (or, put more plainly, enslaved people), and spare time. In its earliest form, topiary was about control: bending nature into submission. It’s where symmetry and precision signaled order, taste, and money.
But with the collapse of the Roman Empire and the Dark Ages that followed, the topiary almost preceded the Dodo Bird in extinction. Monks quietly kept the art alive by growing herbs and manicuring the gardens and hedges within the courtyards of their monasteries.
It wasn’t until the Renaissance nine centuries later when topiary saw a resurgence—ah, Versailles!—and this form of pleasure gardening went into overdrive. Nature became architecture. The French pruned their foliage into iconic cones and obelisks, walls to keep out the riffraff, and ornamentation designed to impress. The Dutch got a little freaky, as they do, and sculpted complicated figures, animals, and even furniture.
Inevitably, the pendulum swung again, and topiary fell out of favor once it became viewed as excessive and even absurd. Even so, it never really disappeared. It just migrated to exist in a completely different paradigm. It was less Versailles and more, “What if this bush were a mouse?”
Fast forward to Disneyland in 1963. That year, the park opened a topiary garden in Fantasyland with verdant sculptures of giraffes, camels, elephants, and hippos all inspired by Denmark’s Tivoli Gardens.
Disney’s interpretation of topiary—which is still a fixture of park decor today—falls more into the realm of imagination and possibility than restrained aristocratic performance.
That’s one of the stranger throughlines of topiary: It moves from elite to everyday, from stiff and formal to playful and silly, from symbol of control to something steeped in personal expression.
Which is what makes a place like Harper’s Topiary Garden so compelling and the woman behind it utterly intriguing.
Courtesy of Christopher Delgado
Born in 1938, Edna Harper was something of a Renaissance woman. She worked for two decades as a dental assistant, and she later became a notable painter, calligrapher, and stained glass artist (the house itself is adorned with her work). But she was also savvy in other ways.
“She graduated [with a degree in dental assisting] from San Diego City College and wanted to have her own money and her independence,” says Delgado. “Most people didn’t know that she was such a great businessperson, and for many years, she managed all of [the couple’s] properties on her own. She was great at building relationships … she touched a lot of people’s lives.”
Her friend and fellow artist Julie Roth attributes her artistry to her relationship with Harper. The pair met two decades ago at an art class at Oasis in Mission Valley.
“She was just the most encouraging person,” Roth says. “I didn’t know I could paint, but apparently I can. She was a tremendous person.”
I asked Roth what she’d want people to know about her friend.
“Her empathy and diplomacy,” she says. “[She had] a sharp eye for other talent. She spotted me, but I’m not the only one she encouraged.”
That sharp eye suggests attention, the same kind it takes to look at a bush and also see a whale. Or a spiral. Or something that doesn’t exist yet, but could.
Photo Credit: Casiel Sanchez
Nothing about Harper’s life suggests someone chasing attention. And yet, she ended up creating something that demanded hers, and she took great pleasure in seeing people enjoy her creations.
The garden didn’t happen all at once. It grew out of years of travel, observation, and collaboration. Harper often traveled without her husband, always returning from trips to Japan, Thailand, and other parts of Asia with ideas and impressions captured through sketches in a notebook.
“She would get creative ideas from her travels … she’d come back with ideas and pictures, and they’d go about cutting that topiary bush into shape,” Delgado says.
For the past 25 years, she had the help of her gardener, Pedro Duran—who’s still employed by the trust and has maintained the garden since Harper’s passing.
In the early topiary years, Harper worked closely with Duran in what Delgado describes as a kind of shared “labor of love.” She would share her sketches and together the pair would shape the bushes into something deliberate.
Photo Credit: Casiel Sanchez
“As she got older, she would increasingly draw her ideas and [Duran] would [carry them out],” Delgado says.
That collaboration reinforces that her garden was not an act of control, but one of creative collaboration and translation. From memory to sketch. From sketch to shrub. From something seen, somewhere else in the world, to something rooted in the soil of a steep hillside in Mission Hills.
Harper also made sure that the lawn’s boisterous energy made its way into the house on Union Street. Apparently, she threw legendary parties.
“Fairly regularly, in the late ’70s and ’80s, she would host Super Bowl parties with 200 people. She had TVs everywhere,” Delgado says.
It’s not hard to square that image with the stillness of the garden which, despite the careful pruning and intentional design, is voluminous and nearly vibrating.
And, damnit, I wish I’d watched some sportsball on her shocking number of TVs and wandered out front to the topiary—slightly wine-drunk with an orange smear of wing sauce on the corner of my mouth—to marvel at the leafy hippo and this woman’s elaborately creative life.
Photo Credit: Casiel Sanchez
I can hear Delgado smiling as we talk on the phone. He’s going back to his childhood, when he talks about being one of the cousins Harper doted on when he visited.
“The adults were inside, and we’d be out in the camper,” he says, “and [Harper] would come check on us, make sure we were okay. She always had gifts for us. If it was Easter, there were chocolate eggs. If it was Christmas, stockings. We were the beneficiaries of them not having kids because they showered us with all their love.”
Knowing this and taking a look at her garden again, you can see it’s not the work of a shut-away curmudgeon. It’s wondrous, inviting, and the right kind of weird.
“Ultimately, she did it for herself and family, first and foremost,” Delgado says of Harper’s Topiary Garden.
Harper’s one request of whomever buys her home may seem like a focus on basic maintenance, about hedges and upkeep and preserving something visually striking. But it’s really about attention. And maybe, too, about legacy. Not hers, per se, but the legacy of community, relationships, art, creativity, possibility, adventure, culture, dedication, and love.
For now, it’s there for anyone to see, and its future is in the hands of whomever comes next.
There are two types of San Diegans in July: those who have their Pride Festival tickets, and those who wish they’d bought them sooner. Summer in San Diego already feels like a fever dream of sunshine and saltwater, and with Balboa Park turning it up to a level best described as joyfully unhinged, we wouldn’t have it any other way.
That’s right: San Diego Pride 2026 is bigger, louder, and more necessary than ever. From July 18–19, expect a full, unapologetic, flags-everywhere kind of weekend where the city opens its arms and means it. Here’s everything you need to know about San Diego Pride 2026.
When and where is the 2026 San Diego Pride Festival?
The San Diego Pride Festival takes over Marston Point in Balboa Park (6th Ave. & Laurel St.) on Saturday, July 18 (12 p.m. to 10 p.m.) and Sunday, July 19 (12 p.m. to 9 p.m.).
How much are San Diego Pride Festival tickets?
Buy tickets early because prices go up closer to the weekend. Regular GA is priced at $45 for a single day or $75 for the full weekend. Once Pride Weekend pricing kicks in, that bumps to $48 for one day and $85 for two days. VIP Weekend starts at $269, and if you want a Meet & Greet with Hailie Sahar on July 18 at 2 p.m., tickets are $106.
Seniors 65 years and older can grab a ticket at the box office for $15, and high schoolers and younger get in free, though they still need to stop by the box office for a ticket before entering. Regular pricing is available through July 17, so don’t wait until the last minute.
What to expect at the festival?
The San Diego Pride Festival isn’t just a typical party. Expect Balboa Park at maximum capacity and maximum heart with five stages, hundreds of vendors, and more joy per square foot than anywhere else in the city that weekend.
At the heart of it all is the Stonewall Stage, the main event where legends and newcomers alike make their San Diego Pride debut. The Mundo Latino Stage brings Rock en Español, DJs, drag shows, and multicultural performers to the mix. The Movement Stage offers a full celebration of Black LGBTQIA+ arts, music, and culture through hip hop, urban contemporary, and local DJs, plus a Queer Locals Marketplace full of LGBTQ-owned small businesses selling handmade art, wellness goods, literature, community resources, and more.
For the people who came to actually dance, the Euphoria Stage delivers electronic music and groundbreaking talent. Prism For All is where art, libraries, and history collide, with workshops, performances, and a makerspace hosted by Art of Pride, the San Diego Public Library, and Lambda Archives. And the Youth Zone gives LGBTQIA+ young people their own dedicated area to meet, get creative, play, and find support.
Who is featured on the 2026 San Diego Pride Festival lineup?
The San Diego Pride Festival 2026 runs on the energy of over 2,000 volunteers every year. With more than 30 departments to choose from, whether you’re a people person, a behind-the-scenes organizer, or just someone who wants to do something good in a great outfit, there’s a spot with your name on it. Head to the San Diego Pride website to sign up.
When and where is the San Diego Pride Parade?
San Diego’s Pride Parade calls the parade “the region’s largest single-day civic event,” drawing more than 250,000 attendees annually. This year it takes place on Saturday, July 18 from 10 a.m. to 3 p.m. and starts at University Avenue and Normal Street. Then it travels west on University Avenue, south on Sixth Avenue, and ends near Balboa Park/Quince Drive.
When and where is the San Diego Pride 5K and Walk?
The Pride 5K Run & Walk is one of the highlights of Pride Week, drawing as many as 1,700 runners and walkers from around the world and raising approximately $40,000 for charity partners San Diego Pride and The LGBT Center’s Youth Housing Project. This year it also takes place on July 18, just a bit earlier at 8 a.m., at the corner of Centre and University Ave in Hillcrest.
Of course, buying a ticket is a guaranteed good time, but it’s also funding something real. San Diego Pride is a registered 501(c)(3) nonprofit, and proceeds go toward supporting organizations that host community events, programs, and fundraisers advancing pride, equality, and respect for LGBTQ+ communities locally, nationally, and globally.
That includes virtual youth programming like Pride’s Youth Leadership Academy, which reaches more than 4,000 LGBTQ children and young adults, as well as coalitions like the QAPIMEDA Coalition, Black LGBTQ Coalition, and Latinx Coalition, and more than 30 LGBTQ programs and events throughout the year.
What items are prohibited at the San Diego Pride Festival?
The prohibited items list is lengthy (no balloons, no selfie sticks, no bubble-making devices, trust us they’ll make up for it elsewhere), but the big ones to keep in mind: clear bags only (max 12″x6″x12″), no outside food, no alcoholic beverages, no glass, no large umbrellas, and no knives or weapons of any kind. Leave the drone at home too. For the full list, head to sdpride.org/entry-policies.
Isabella Dallas is a freelance writer for San Diego Magazine and the Arts and Culture Editor at The Daily Aztec in her final year at San Diego State University. She previously worked as an editorial intern for SDM, but when she’s not writing, you can find her trying the best coffee spots in SD, devouring the latest rom-coms, and indulging in anything and everything pop culture.
Kelly H. Harfouche, founder of KQ Aesthetic Society, knows firsthand that cosmetic treatments like fillers, neurotoxins, and microneedling, can not only enhance a person’s appearance and restore confidence, they have the power to truly change a person’s life. An expert injector has the ability to tailor treatments to each individual patient’s anatomy and goals for personalized results. Harfouche, a board-certified nurse practitioner, has spent nearly a decade perfecting her craft as an aesthetic injector and integrating her multifaceted artistic skills with precision patient care. Her commitment to continual education and training, plus a passion for helping people look—and feel—their best, set KQ Aesthetic Society apart in a sea of local medspas.
For many people considering nonsurgical treatments, the intent is to look refreshed and refined. KQ Aesthetic Society’s philosophy eschews a cookie cutter approach that bases treatments around units, instead working to understand each person’s unique goals, then curating a treatment plan to fit that vision. Harfouche focuses on “inclusive luxury,” the belief that everyone deserves access to aesthetic treatments, respective of budget restrictions. She develops long-standing trusted relationships with her patients, and works with each one to achieve their aesthetic objectives and address the underlying causes of their concerns.
“For me, forming an honest and open relationship with every patient who walks through the door is essential. This means understanding them on a deeper level and meeting them where they are to define and achieve their individual goals,” she says.
Drawing on her artistic background, which inspired her transition into medical aesthetics, Harfouche sees each client as a “unique canvas.” Rather than relying on standardized procedures, the practitioner’s distinctive approach combines her profound understanding of the physiological and anatomical changes associated with aging with an unwavering commitment to ongoing education about the newest products and their mechanisms of action. Her goal is to make each patient feel beautiful in their own skin and to embrace their individuality.
She has also pioneered a way to combine her talent for aesthetic artistry with her philanthropic nature. Harfouche is one of only a handful of providers using dermal fillers to treat patients with lip asymmetry and scarring resulting from cleft lip surgery. Patients travel from around the country for this transformative treatment, noting increased confidence and a restored identity. She hopes to eventually launch a training program to help fill the void in this space.
“My passion has always been connecting with people and giving back in any capacity that I can,” she says. In the rapidly advancing landscape of aesthetic medicine, you can place your confidence in Harfouche and KQ Aesthetic Society to deliver exceptional care. To learn more or book a consultation, please visit kqaestheticsociety.com.
Enjoy tastings from more than 20 wineries and gourmet bites at the University of San Diego Wine Classic. The all-inclusive annual event benefits USD’s Alumni Endowed Scholarship Fund, and to date has raised more than $1 million.
July 18: The Pride 5K Run & Walk
Around 1,700 runners and walkers will hit the streets of Hillcrest for the The Pride 5K Run & Walk, before the Pride Parade. The long-running community favorite is a highlight of Pride Week and raises money for San Diego Pride and the LGBT Center’s Youth Housing Project.
July 20: Brendan Nordholm Make-a-Wish Golf Classic
The 37th annual Brendan Nordholm Make-A-Wish Golf Classic will tee off at The Crosby National Golf Club at Rancho Santa Fe Golf Club. The 18-hole tournament, followed by a reception, will help the organization grant wishes for local families.
July 23: Foundation for Developmental Disabilities Christmas in July
Help the Foundation for Developmental Disabilities celebrate its 40th year at its Christmas in July fundraiser at Koi Zen Cellars. The festive evening marks the start of FDD’s annual Season of Sharing and guests are encouraged to bring a new, unwrapped toy to donate.
Operation For HOPE Foundation’s ninth annual Caring, Sharing & Champagning Fundraiser will kick off with a charity shopping spree for household essentials for survivors of domestic violence and their children. Guests will then be treated to champagne, espresso martinis, and light bites at a private residence in Rancho Santa Fe.
July 25: The Doan Foundation’s Fourth Annual Gala Fundraiser
The Doan Foundation will host a formal fundraising dinner to benefit underserved youth and emerging creatives. The organization’s fourth annual Gala Fundraiser will feature a live performance by R&B artist Amanda Perez, other performances, scholarship awards, and inspiring stories.
Sarah Sapeda is San Diego Magazine’s Custom Content Editor. In her 15 years in San Diego journalism, she has covered charitable events, health care, education, crime, current events, and more.
International Network of Hearts celebrated 15 years of helping survivors of human trafficking in the U.S. and Mexico recover and reintegrate at its “An Evening of Courage and Change” gala on June 6. During the formal event at the Sunset View Room overlooking Mission Bay, the organization received a proclamation from Mayor Todd Gloria’s office deeming June 6 as International Network of Hearts Day. Proceeds from the gala will support International Network of Hearts’ mission to rescue, restore, and reintegrate survivors via its Casa del Jardín care centers.
Sarah Sapeda is San Diego Magazine’s Custom Content Editor. In her 15 years in San Diego journalism, she has covered charitable events, health care, education, crime, current events, and more.
AVRP Studios’ tradition for Design Excellence and Innovation began in 1976 with Doug Austin, FAIA, in Solana Beach, California. The firm has since grown to complete major projects throughout the United States and Canada. We think of ourselves as a family and we care deeply about people. We want to inspire, help make their lives richer and more complete through our efforts. We believe that architecture is one of the most important art forms because of the impact it can have on the lives of those it touches. We’re delighted to have been recognized with over 150 awards for design excellence.
703 16th Street, Suite 200, San Diego, California 92101 | 619-704-2700 | avrpstudios.com
