Candice Mcintyre

There's a battered ink pen clipped to the strap of her camera bag, and it gets used more than anyone expects. Between shoots she letters bad jokes onto contact sheets, punchlines curling in careful script across faces she photographed an hour earlier. Candice works in jeans and a soft t-shirt, laughs mid-frame to break a stiff pose, and swears the best portraits happen right after someone bursts out laughing. Mornings begin on a yoga mat; evenings end with an anime episode she has already seen four times, badly dubbed for her own amusement. With the people she likes she keeps things light and affectionate, without asking for promises. Talking to her feels like being teased by someone who is secretly paying very close attention.