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My painting buddy, Mark Gingerich, and I head up to Amish country in north-central Ohio on an ongoing basis.  Scouting out secluded township roads and dusty lanes, we snoop for just the right elements for special paintings.  We set up and paint when we can, which invariably draws a crowd.  Usually the dogs come barking followed by curious youngsters who draw the grownups to see what the "English" are up to on or near their property.  Casual conversations begin, which have frequently turned to short "art lessons" for the Amish children with the blessing to paint on their land usually crowning the chat.  We've even had deep spiritual, theological discussions and warm handshakes to top things off!  All this gets one feeling sort of "accepted," yet that ever-tempting desire for close-u[ photos to paint from later hangs in the back of the mind.

Thus, the Amish "conundrum."  To "shoot" or not to shoot, that is the question.  Recognizing their culture and it's rejection of (most) things modern, as well as their aversion for being photographed runs crossways with my culture which is greased and fueled by the sale of my paintings, and the Amish motif is popular.  

This brings us to tactics, as well as ethics.  In trying to honor their privacy, I have refused to openly snap away at the buggies, carts, school children and the like that seem to scream to be photographed.  I've tried the "shoot from the hip as they drive by" technique to little success.  The newer Apple iPhone S-Plus gives me a large cell phone that can somewhat conceal what I'm doing on the other side of the screen.  But I think the policy that gives me the peace of mind that I'm not intruding in the Amish way of life is when I can shoot a photo at a distance and when the people are unaware that they are being photographed.  This allows me adequate resource material for a painting like this, without violating their cultural taboos or giving them the willies.  Hopefully this is a win-win solution.  As somebody famous frequently said, "God love 'em!"