I've been creating photographs professionally for many years. In that time I've been lucky enough to meet and photograph my share of famous and interesting people. But none of these photo projects affected me more than the picture series of strippers that I took back stage at the Troc Burlesque Theater in my hometown, Philadelphia.

The Troc and the women who performed there always fascinated me. I never went as a teenager even though most of my friends made pilgrimages there on Friday nights. In my teenage years when I first started to confront my feelings about sexuality, I felt uncomfortable participating in the spectacle of watching a stripper perform in front of hundreds of other men. I was like many teenagers however, drawn to the undefined danger of this shadowy, illicit place.

When I finally became a professional photojournalist, I discovered I was I was able to get intimately involved with my subjects, but at the same time remain safe behind this invisible barrier that protected me from the potential complications of worlds I might not otherwise enter. With my camera in front of me, society gave me permission to stare, even be a voyeur. Now I had permission to go anywhere. My camera was my press pass to life.