About two weeks ago, I had a day filled with intense visuals and emotional recognition. It began at the studio where my dancers were engaged in learning, practicing-going over steps with fierce focus and determinaton. Their bodies repeating choreography continuously until it became a memory.  Sometimes, there would be a skip or a stall, but then the muscles would motor into motion again without much hesitation. Over and over I watched this. This repetition of movement and cooperation of the body and mind. Because the dancers were moving with such quickness and there were so many detailed accounts of where limbs needed to be, it was impressive to see. The next part of my day took me to visit someone dear to me whose limbs do not  move freely and do not cooperate with each directive. I was caught by the beauty of the movement in what lifting her head meant. Such simplicity for me, but a victory for someone who dreams to physically be free. Earlier in the day, I had seen such complex and wonderful transfer. Then, God gave my eyes a view of flight, of mobility that was completely different. On my way home, it rained and rained and rained. It came down with an such powerful force, I was again taken by how significant and beautiful it was. Safely warm inside my car, I listened and watched the rain all the way home. It seemed to me to be a reminder of God's almighty control over all things. I was thankful for how God had shown me such intense beauty through out  the day. 

Beauty of Movement...

I have found  a heightened awareness of my senses this summer. As I drive from the studio to home and home to studio, I am thankful for the reminders of the season we are in. Ripe raspberries, pavement warmed by the sun at the end of the day, the breeze, the trees. All these smells deliciously drifting over me. The beauty of movement that I have seen has been in ordinary things such as my husband's hand guiding the saw skillfully across a board. Family, swimming and splashing in wonderful water. And Extraordinary things, like my daughter's hands diving into a pond and trying to capture a polliwog over and over. Her sinewy body crouched, tensed, ready. Her face alert, determined, and then exhilarated with victory. The arc of a dancer's back, foot, arm, these are everyday sights for me. The beauty of movement I have found in my dancer's lines has not come from the practiced, but the occurrence of the usual. The breath in and exhaled. Their encouragement to one another. This is beautiful. God is kinesthetic...and near and perfect.  

Update on Sunday, September 25, 2011 at 2:59PM by Damaris Caughlan-Artistic Director

Delightful energy and fast paced movement was mine...hair flying all about, smiles and laughter and arms thrown up with exhilerhating pleasure and abandon. The conclusion that the scrambler is and always will be the best ride of all time! First, I was caught in my own giddy grownup fun at forgetting all about life's daily tasks. Seeing my husband waiting for me, face beaming with happiness, took me instantly back to childhood as my dad waited for me and my sister to complete our ride. Watching my dad smile, I would catch glimpses of his bright eyes filled to the brim with emotion. Yet somehow never spilling over  as we whipped past him. I was always puzzled by this picture of my dad, until I grew up...Catching my breath, I became lost in the joyous faces of my daughters as round and round we went. Their happy contented bodies snuggled in close to mine. Secure in every way. I closed my eyes and felt the wind, heard the thrill of their voices, felt the movement of this man made machine lurching back and forth, so fast and fun. I wondered, what is it in us, that God designs to appreciate this excitement, hope for more, yearn for pleasure that takes us out of ourselves. Heaven? Won't it be amazing to see what heaven is...