by Kel Pusz
I seldom ask people to pose. If I could pick a super power, the ability to be invisible would be at the top of the list. Until that power manifests, I wait patiently for moments when people are at their ease, engrossed in their own stories and try to lay hold of it. By people, I mean my family, who mostly tolerate these intrusions. I own a decent camera, but a handy cell phone allows for the covert capturing of unstudied acts. The idea is to never send up a signal flare that announces that it’s time to pose, that it’s time to leave their story and foster a smile. I’m after the incidental.
My background is a hodgepodge of self rtaught craft skills ( felting, puppets, dolls), half remembered and thus bastardized things I learned as a child (sewing, quilting, crocheting). I paint occasionally, was employed as a prop maker for a half dozen years and apprenticed as a stained glass restorationist while in college. I’ve been feeling my way through photography for about five years.