Sometimes I think a little too much about beauty. I want to cultivate it in my home, my body, my life, my heart--and then fail. It's easy to forget that beauty often dwells in simplicity, in the elegant black dress and not a million ruffles and feathers, or the single gesture and not a dozen words. We say "enjoy the little things" so much in so many places, but then we forget--or, at least, I do.
Do you think that is why we constantly blog little anecdotes and photos of little things and turn them into stories? Is that one of the ways we realize the little things are actually big?
Image by Elle Moss on Etsy; available here
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