The first time my mother, a portrait photographer, began teaching me to print, I had to stand on a chair to see inside the developing tray. From that day, it never stopped feeling like magic to see the dark areas appearing followed shortly by the midtones that made the image seem to blossom even under the darkroom light. Digital photography does not cast that spell, but it still has photography’s magic of capturing moments that would otherwise have been lost except to the memory of the observer. One of my goals is to capture from ordinary situations the essence of something extraordinary, revealing, or celebratory that would have otherwise gone unobserved or unnoticed by others. That could be a fleeting expression, a macro view into a bug’s world, or the story an old bus or barn has to tell. It could be a moment of joy or fear revealed in the expression of a child or the hate dominating the mind of a racist. It could be an ordinary person passionately doing an ordinary job or engaging in a hobby. You would be more likely to find me photographing in a scrap yard than at a tourist attraction; in an alley or industrial district than on main street; in the woods than in a botanical garden.