When I was a small child I lived for several years with my Step-Grandparents in rural Ohio. My “Grandpap” taught me to see the beauty in simple things like the wild tiger lilies in the fields, the call of the Bob White, an evening on the porch swing watching rabbits on the lawn. He encouraged my wandering in the countryside, wading in the “crick”, catching minnows, sliding down hills, picking wild flowers. He sang songs to me that you don’t hear anymore, that I haven’t heard since. He’s responsible for my eye for detail, my penchant for noticing the small things around me. After I moved to New Orleans at 21,  I came to appreciate the beauty of historic architecture, how the lines and curves mimic shapes in nature. The details pleasure my eye;  the stateliness of a portico, the weathered patina of wood and stucco, the intricacies of a wrought iron balustrade. Photography is an art that requires mindfulness, patience, and a slowness of living that’s becoming rarer by the day. Beauty can be grand and majestic but it can be quiet and simple and easily overlooked. Every day is an opportunity to see the beauty around you.