The Reluctant Ballerina

As a gymnast I hated ballet.  It was a cruel torture.  I had paid good money to learn gymnastics and then they hired a ballet teacher to show us how to point our toes??  Once a week at the end of class we had to do half an hour of ballet–which for ballet, means that you do most the work at the barre, and for a gymnast that means you come from adrenalin pumping activities, swinging around bars, sprinting and hurling yourself at a large object, tumbling over floors and leaping, turning doing impossible feats on a 4 inch wide surface.  No one liked ballet. All you did for half an hour was point your toes and bend your knees.  How incredibly boring. 

I warmed up to the dance years later, when I was no longer in gymnastics, taking classes in pointe and, funny enough, teaching it to small children for two years.  I pulled out of teaching it this past year–I found there was little room to do anything other than work and teach.  So while this past year has seen a rise in my creativity in terms of, well, basically everything but dance, my body is lamenting the absence of the basic bar routine.  Starting from my feet, and traveling up my legs, into my hips, back shoulders and neck, my body screams to move.  I answer by sipping coffee at my work desk and thinking about turning these feelings into a visual idea.

So I painted a pointed foot.  I appreciate this very basic move on a whole new level now that I am not doing this.


It is time to dance again.


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