Shreveport is where the McSwain’s have called home for the last 26 years. All roads lead here for these two. After driving to Colorado, through Texas several times over, up the long path to New York, and bombarded with images of truck stops and tumbleweeds along the way, suddenly “home” became just as inspiring. 

They began to see the beauty in the mundane. On an average day, Larsson spotted a cardinal flittering away from a bird feeder in the yard barely long enough to recognize a flash of red, but it left a lasting impression in his mind. Mike admired the signage at the Lucky Liquor down the street and celebrated its primo design in watercolor. The two were buzzing to imagery like moths to the neon glow of the Southern Maid sign. Absence had made their hearts grow fonder. Shreveport had become part of the routine, but stopping to smell the roses was needed and welcome.