Two people came to mind when I read this story on photographer Hannah Price: My sister and my wife. I've always admired the bravery of my sister as a photographer, her willingness to go right up to someone in Ethiopia, Bhutan, Kazakhstan, or wherever and get an intimate shot.
My wife always tells me about the guys who hit on her in Wal-Mart parking lots or whistled at her and called her a niñera linda as she pushed a stroller. She usually has a camera with her. Maybe she'll start bringing home more than the stories.