The things I find beautiful are not necessarily plain to the eye. I have always thought that the effort to make art or sing despite the lack of talent that made a name for Monet or Adele is a golden expression of soul. It’s priceless and therefore splendid. The mess of a well-used artist or writer’s desk indicating a thriving, compelling intellect and a color imagination. The overstuffed notebooks in the backpack of a thriving student make me think of the beauty of achievement. What else you can think about a cook whose every morsel makes an explosion of joy on the tongue, but that their nurturing soul is gorgeous and wonderful? Beauty is not only in a rose, or the ordered images in Home and Garden. It isn’t just the way light hits a lake. Our efforts, our ever day authenticity expressed casually and without guile touches me and teaches me the true meanings of words like beautiful… magnificent… noble.