Pinhole photography, or lens-less photography, is arguably the simplest form of taking pictures. All you need is a light-tight box with a pinhole in one end, a piece of film or photographic paper taped into the other end and some sort of shutter (a piece of tape or your thumb works just fine). It's so easy, that even elementary school kids learn how to do it.

So it might seem that photographer Scott Manko, who's made a name for himself in recent years taking pictures of Washington County's covered bridges, is a little slow on the draw. Now 38, he's been honing his craft since he was a student at Ringgold High School. Yet he didn't really know anything about pinhole photography until about eight years ago, when he started reading about the history of photography and its alternative processes.

But better late than never: The Nottingham native was immediately intrigued.

Working with the basic concept of the camera obscura, an optical device used as a drawing aid in the 1500s by artists such as Michelangelo and Leonardo da Vinci, pinhole photography took the technique one step further. Rather than something to be traced, the image projected inside the box was fixed in photo sensitive materials -- the first, primitive photography as we know it.

"It sounded kind of neat," says Mr. Manko, who maintains a studio in Gallery 200 on North Main Street in Washington.

Given the fact your average third-grader has tried his hand at pinhole photography, you'd expect an experienced photographer would quickly master the art. Yet as Mr. Manko soon discovered, this primitive imaging device takes a great deal of time and skill. Not only is it something of a challenge to create the right-sized pinhole (the best is perfectly round, incredibly tiny and made in an extremely thin piece of material) but the picture-taker must also figure out the proper exposure times. Some images require just a 10-second exposure while others can take several hours; it all depends on the light. In addition, there's no view finder to set up the shot.

"It's kind of trial-and-error," admits Mr. Manko, who on Saturday will be demonstrating the art at the Barnes & Noble bookstore at South Hills Village.

Still, he liked it enough that he kept doing it and eventually became quite good at it. Good enough, in fact, to become the subject of an exhibit entitled "Instant Gratification" at the Artists' Co-Op on East Beau Street in Washington in conjunction with the 2007 Worldwide Pinhole Photography Day on April 27. (To see his photograph of burgers on a grill, visit www.pinholeday.org and search for image 3013.) Currently, three of his photos are on display at World West Galleries on North Main Street.

Because the depth of field is basically infinite, pinhole images are typically "softer" than traditional photos -- that is to say, less sharply focused -- and often have a dream-like quality about them. But what really makes them special, says Mr. Manko, who uses a modified Polaroid camera he found at a flea market with a pinhole crafted out of a piece of Mountain Dew can, is that there is a beauty in its simplicity that technology has not been able to improve upon.

Unlike digital and traditional film images, which can be altered and replicated, pinhole images truly are one of a kind. If the photographer uses photographic paper in the camera, for instance, he has only one shot before having to come back to the dark room to develop it. As a result, says Mr. Manko, you have to make sure everything is perfect before you release the shutter.

"It forces you to slow down, and really think before taking your image," he says.

All that hard work, though, eventually pays off. Though pinhole photography is still very much a niche market, it is not without its admirers. Almost 3,000 photographers from 68 countries participated in this year's annual pinhole photography day. And you don't even have to know the artist to appreciate his or her work. Mr. Manko's wife, Amy, who is executive director of the Washington County Literacy Council, was a fan of his photos even before she met him, having been fascinated by them at the Artists' Co-op.

Because Mr. Manko works with Polaroid pack film, his pinhole photos are relatively small. Most measure just 3 inches by 4 inches. They tend to feature the great outdoors, capturing everything from rural landscapes to close-ups of flowers and plants. His third-floor walkup studio at Gallery 200, which in addition to his photos, houses an impressive display of antique cameras, also boasts a variety of "chrome" shots, or pinholes of vintage muscle cars. All range in price from about $175 to $350, framed.

Given the fact pinhole photography as an art form has yet to take the masses by storm, Mr. Manko's work is still very much an avocation rather than his vocation. His real job is art framing and making artificial trees and Christmas decorations for Watermark Gallery on North Main Street. But he's totally cool with that.

Anybody, he says, can pick up a digital camera and shoot a bunch of pictures, and then delete the ones that aren't up to snuff. But to create that perfect pinhole photograph that not only makes you think but also makes you feel? That's poetry.

"It's literally one-of-a-kind piece of artwork," he says.

Scott Manko will demonstrate pinpoint photography at 1 p.m. Saturday at the Barnes & Noble bookstore at South Hills Village. You can also view samples of his work at www.scottmankofoto.com.