Beauty and motion

Anyone who keeps the ability to see beauty never grows old. Franz Kafka

It is a beautiful morning. Sunlight slants across the lawn in streaks of gold. Bird song echoes from the trees. A gentle breeze stirs the leaves, a squirrel scurries across the grass.

There is beauty in the morning. Beauty in sleep grown old in dawn's early light. Beauty in eyes opening to see the world anew, a fresh, breathtakingly beautiful world of wonder and joy.

Over the weekend I witnessed two incredibly beautiful shows -- one, Alberta Ballet's "Love Lies Bleeding", a ballet set to Elton John's music. The other, Sears Stars on Ice -- a celebration of Canadian figure skaters including Olympic Gold medallists, Scott Moir and Tessa Virtue. It was a weekend of beauty in motion.

Beauty. Motion. Bodies flowing like water. Limbs fluid. Liquid. Sensuous. Limbs staccato. Sharp. Edgie. Definitive.

There was beauty in every movement. Sparse and stripped down. Layered. Rich and textured. There was never a moment to sit back and say, 'it's just a dance.' It wasn't just a dance. it was performance. Human beings performing. At their best. At the top of their game. In top form. In tune with the music. Aligned. Breathing through each note, becoming each sound.

It was breathtaking. Beautiful and inspiring.

Barefeet on stage. Skate shod feet dancing. Dance. Ice. So different and yet, so similar.

Passion. Each fingertip drawing out a note. Each movement of the head, a shoulder, a hip, a knee, a toe sinuously sliding, through air or on ice, to write emotions out longhand, visible for the naked eye to see.

It was a weekend of beauty in motion -- what a gift creativity is to mankind. What a precious present to bestow upon audiences -- to see the music in motion. To witness bodies feeling their way through each song, celebrating their ability to move freely, to create joyfully.

Perhaps though, out of all the steps and movements, costumes and songs the most poignant was Joannie Rochette's skate to a song -- I don't remember the name -- I just remember the sorrowfulness, the poignancy, the realization that this dance, every movement, every nuance was a tribute to her mother who passed away just before Joannie's bronze medal skate at the Olympics. "How beautiful and sad," I whispered into C.C.'s daughters ear as the dance ended. "This is her first Mother's Day dance without her mother. It must be incredibly difficult."

M.C. whispered back, "I'm surprised she'd spend it here on ice. I'd think she'd be with people she knew."

"Perhaps it is here on the ice she is closest to her mother. Perhaps these are the people she knows best," I replied.

We both watched as the skater slid off the ice, her smile bright, her arms spread wide to accept the adulation and support of the crowd.

she was beauty in motion. a tribute to her mother who never missed a performance. Never missed a practice. Who always encouraged her daughter, as mother's the world over do day after day, to do her best. To not give up. To fall in love with the beauty of her passion and live it for all she's worth.

I watched passion take flight on the weekend. From Elton John's music to skaters carving emotions into the ice, I watched their passion expose itself to admiring eyes and I was moved.

May we all be moved by beauty today. May we all feel the passion and be moved to take flight into our dreams.