In a recent NYT article about the New York City Ballet's fall season, critic Alastair Macaulay began his piece saying, "Dance is the art of transition." This quote seems especially relevant for Lexi, a senior, who happens to be a ballerina and who happens to be transitioning (very soon) into a post-high school life. During this session at Wash Park in Denver, I kept expecting to turn around to see a gospel choir serenading us with "The Hallelujah Chorus." It was that glorious. Photo after photo of gentle hands and pointed feet and straight lines. I felt a little like a 21st century Degas-wannabe, running around pressing the shutter with a manic need to create art. But Lexi herself is art.Lexi's grace flows from the inside out. She is obviously stunning, but I hope these photographs reveal that her shine is a product of her kindness, gentleness, and humility -- I mean, the girl can kick her toes over her head like she's merely flicking her hair out of her face or singing in the shower, like it's so natural and ordinary. Lexi reminds me that we all have something inside of us -- that we have worked hard to cultivate or that we need to cultivate -- to share with the world. For some, it's patience. For some, it's discernment. Or, encouragement. Or, like, Lexi it's grace. Lexi (and Gia) thank you for spending the afternoon dancing around Wash Park with me. The Russian tutu, the purple flowers, the unlocked boathouse, the shadows and shapes of the light -- it was all so glorious.

In a recent NYT article about the New York City Ballet's fall season, critic Alastair Macaulay began his piece saying, "Dance is the art of transition."This seems especially relevant for Lexi, a senior, who happens to be a ballerina and who happens to be transitioning (very soon) into a post-high school life.During this session at Wash Park in Denver, I kept expecting to turn around to see a gospel choir serenading us with "The Hallelujah Chorus." It was that glorious. Photo after photo of gentle hands and pointed feet and straight lines. I felt a little like a 21st century Degas-wannabe, running around pressing the shutter with a manic need to create art. But Lexi herself is art.Lexi's grace flows from the inside out. She is obviously stunning, but I hope these photographs reveal that her shine is a product of her kindness, gentleness, and humility -- I mean, the girl can kick her toes over her head like she's merely flicking her hair out of her face or singing in the shower, like it's so natural and ordinary. Lexi reminds me that we all have something inside of us -- that we have worked hard to cultivate or that we need to cultivate -- to share with the world. For some, it's patience. For some, it's discernment. Or, encouragement. Or, like, Lexi it's grace.Lexi (and Gia) thank you for spending the afternoon dancing around Wash Park with me. The Russian tutu, the purple flowers, the unlocked boathouse, the shadows and shapes of the light -- it was all so glorious.