It is everywhere. It exists in different forms. It can be described, experienced, shared, felt. It is never quite the same for any two individuals. It is a lot like love and the wind: unexpected, impactful, resonating.

A video that explains better why one finds things “Beautiful”. I do not agree with all the points made. I do however agree that what is Beautiful is often a derivative of something (anything) done “well”. For me, a job done well, more immediately noted in artistic pieces, is a job completed through passion. The video:

Dennis Dutton: A Darwinian theory of beauty

I experience Beauty on a daily basis, it is exhibited in: the uninhibited smile of a baby or young child, the sunrise/sunset, the selfless actions of the everyday person, the smell of a great cup of tea or coffee, the mouth-watering taste of a delicious dessert, the realization that there really is a reason for why certain events take place, a melody, a quote, a good conversation.

This week has been filled with quite a few Beautiful moments. Yesterday I realized that while my methods are not always conventional, they do not need to be. I am not the person who is meant to live by a schedule, while having a schedule is helpful it cannot and will never be the way I live my life (at least not the greater part of my life, perhaps I live by a schedule during the week and hike/travel/snowboard/explore on the weekend).

I am messy and wordy. I am kind and passionate. I am a believer and a giver. I am destined to do in my life something for the greater good, I do not yet know for certain what that “something” is, but I will get there. I do not care how easy or difficult the path is, what I care about is that I get there and that it is sustainable. I also care about who travels the path with me, this will be essential to my growth; it always is (from what I have gathered) for those who achieve their destiny. I am also pretty sure my “something” will, in some way, involve children.

This evening I experienced Beauty in the form of music. I attended an event at Wigmore Hall. I shed a tear or two, probably more like five; I could not help it. The performance was moving. It was also my first purely classical event. I will attend many more and they will be great but this one will always be the one I picture when I close my eyes and think of a melody.

I do not listen to classical music as often as my delight for it would suggest nor do I know the names and backgrounds of all the melodies I treasure; ah! nor do I know the titles of those melodies. I think this is due in part by my messy and unconventional ways. I do not see the value in classifying what I find inspiring. I am often able to tell a Tchaikovsky, Mozart, Beethoven, Bach, Vivaldi, Stravinsky, and Rachmaninov composition apart but which composition is being played will often phase me. I can distinguish the voices of Andrea Bocelli and Luciano Pavarotti but the song title is often misplaced.

I find “titles” to be irrelevant, often misleading, and only put in place because of conventionality. What is important is not the title but what is represented. In terms of music, I do not see the value in knowing the name of every composition by Tchaikovsky if I am unable to experience a piece individually and find the value in the melody, the movement within the song, and let it become my own. I do not have a “favorite” anything and I am terrible at classifications. I will forever be messy and unconventional and I will always be moved by a classical melody, a poem, a baby’s smile, an unconditional embrace, and a sunset.