A few years ago, I hid a set of whiskey barrels inside a composite and asked Park City to find them.
Not just find them. Identify them. Figure out exactly where in town they really lived.
What followed was one of the most joyful, unexpected creative projects I've ever made. People tagged their friends, debated in the comments, shared memories tied to each location. For a few weeks during a very hard spring in 2020, when the town had gone quiet and everyone was stuck at home looking for something to hold onto, the I Spy Park City series became a small ritual. Something to look forward to. Something to talk about that wasn't the news.
Here's the story behind each one.
How It Started
I've always built my composite work around objects that carry meaning: a client's grandmother's ring, a beloved hiking trail, something tucked into the background that only the family would recognize. The idea of hiding something real inside an image, waiting to be found, felt completely natural.
So I started photographing iconic objects from around Park City, things locals would recognize but might not immediately place, and weaving them into entirely new worlds. Then I posted them one at a time with a simple challenge: Can you identify this object? And do you know where in Park City it really lives?
The Objects and Their Secrets
High West Distillery: Whiskey Barrels

Stacked rows of High West Distillery barrels, straight from the saloon's collection, placed beneath a snowy winter forest. A girl in a black dress leaps across them, red umbrella open, mid-stride. The HW brand is right there on every barrel, but pulled out of context, set against bare red trees and falling snow, people still had to look twice.
High West regulars got it fast. Everyone else had to think.
Swaner Nature Preserve: The Open-Air Gazebo

That beautiful wooden structure overlooking the wetlands at Swaner, one of those places locals pass on the way somewhere else without quite stopping to look. I placed it at the edge of the ocean, a woman in a pink blouse and flowing skirt standing in the doorway, seagulls lifting off around her. The gazebo became a portal. A threshold between here and somewhere else entirely.
The White Barn: A Vintage Clawfoot Bathtub

Sitting quietly on the grounds at the White Barn, this old clawfoot tub became the vessel for an entirely different world. A girl drifts on the open ocean, legs dangling over the edge, a sea turtle gliding beneath her in the clear water below. One of those images where the magic only deepens once you know where the tub really came from.
Park City Miners Hospital: A Hand-Painted Piano

A beautifully painted upright piano sits on the front porch of one of Park City's most historic buildings. I lifted it out of that context entirely and set it down in an open golden field, tall grass in every direction, a warm sunset sky, a girl seated at the keys playing into the open air. Just the piano, all that light, and the question of how it got there.
This one made people think the hardest. And once they knew, they couldn't unsee it.
What It Meant
I didn't set out to make something meaningful. I just needed to stay creative during a stretch of time when everything felt uncertain.
But that's what this community does. You give it something small and it gives back something bigger. People shared memories of each place. They recalled the first time they'd been to High West, or a walk through Swaner with their kids, or what they knew about the history of the Miners Hospital. The images became a thread, a way of staying connected to the places we all loved and couldn't quite get to.
Park City is full of objects and places that hold stories most people have never heard. That's what I was reaching for with this series. And honestly, it's what I reach for in every composite I make.
These Places Are Still With Me
I still weave local landmarks and meaningful objects into my work today, not as hidden puzzles, but as part of the story I'm building with each client. As a Park City portrait photographer, if your family has a place in Park City that means something to you, chances are I can find a way to bring it into your portrait.
That's the whole point. Art that holds the place, not just the people.
To learn more about the portrait experience, visit the Experience page. And if you're ready to start a conversation, I'd love to hear from you.
Creatively yours,
Dana