Noblesse Oblige

She smiles into the mirror, hoping to convince herself that she really does want to be here.  The bright lights reflect in the vanity, illuminating her perfectly made-up face.  She pauses.  The feathery powderpuff sits poised in her hand- a fuzzy butterfly, designed to disguise and transform.  A pat here, a fluff there, perfect.  Her smoothed complexion would be spotlight-ready with just a few passes of the dark pink blush.  She makes a fish-like face in the mirror, finding the apple of her cheek.  A tired sigh escapes her chest as she absent-mindedly tucks a stray piece of hair back into a bobby pin.  A knock at the dressing room door snaps her from her thoughts.  "Come in" she calls- not bothering to rise and answer the door herself.  She hears the soft patter of dance shoes and suddenly sees her best friend's reflection staring at her own in the giant mirror.  Perfectly smoothed, tucked, hairsprayed, and costumed, her friend is the image of what she could never quite achieve.  She made it seem so effortless.  "You're on in ten", she says, flashing a brilliantly white smile, and fluttering out the door.  Offering a half-hearted thanks, she rises in her chair to reach the satin shoes that had been less than carefully tossed over the mirror's edge.  The ribbons are tangled.  Again.  Just her luck, too.  Working quickly to iron out this latest wrinkle, she thinks back to the countless times she'd had to untangle her shoes' ribbons over the years.  One would think she'd learn to store and transport them better.  She quickly laces the freed ribbons over her slender ankles.  Criss-cross, criss-cross, right over left.  Or had she accidentally just done left over right?  She has to focus.  Standing up from the chair, she smooths her costume, tucking in any loose strings, straightening the crinoline and tightening the zipper.  She spins slowly in front of the full-length mirror, inspecting herself for any overlooked details.  Seeing none, she rises to Arabesque and performs a slight Penche to relax her clenched muscles.  "Why am I a dancer?" she asks the mirror.  It offers no reply.  It never does. 

Another knock interrupts her again.  This time, her friend doesn't wait for permission to enter.  "Let's go.  You have one more song before the stage is yours!"  With another brilliant smile and a soft swish of the costume, her friend glides back through the door again, and this time, she is accompanied.  Out into the hall they tip-toe, the dim light glinting off the sequins on their skirts.  Narrow corridors and small staircases lead them to the stage doors.  Quietly pushing through, they pad through the wings; avoiding sandbags, switches, and boxes. 

She peeks through a tiny tear in the curtain.  The dancer before her is almost finished.  She knows the number by heart now, so many times has she watched it through this tear.  After one more pirouette, the tiny woman will perform a gravity-defying leap, the lights will black out, and the music will end dramatically.  As she predicted, the woman executes the steps perfectly, and wastes no time vacating the stage.  It's her turn now.  Passing the woman, she walks quickly onstage.  With each step she reminds herself of why she is here.  To pay the bills.  To make a living.  To prove her peers wrong.  To stun the audience.  To dance . . . to dance.  She closes her eyes and takes note of her internal rhythm- her heartbeat.  It beats quickly and sporadically.  She still gets nervous, even after all these years, all this practice.  She knows though, that as soon as the lights wash over the stage, she will be purged of that nervousness, and unhindered in her performance.  She will dance, and she will stun the audience.  After all, that was her dream . . . to be a dancer.

"I Have Been Changed For Good"

I know you all are dying to know how my first voice lesson went.  OK, maybe you aren't, but I'm going to tell you anyway.  I'm not going to lie.  It was kind of scary walking into voice lessons for the first time.  I had no idea what to expect and this made me nervous and tense which made my throat tighten.  This made me nervous that the sound would come out strained and squeaky, which in turn made my throat tighten even more.  Its a vicious cycle, let me tell you.  Upon entering, my cousin and I were asked to take a seat, and the teacher asked some basic questions (have you sung before, what do you like to sing, do you think you are an alto or soprano).  After this Q&A, she took us over to the piano to find our ranges.  This was scary as well.  I started out facing the piano so I could see exactly where I was singing.  Not a good idea.  I chickened around G#.  So, I was told to turn around.  Reluctantly, I did so.  back up the scale I started.  This time, I got all the way to D# before I had to stop.  This was surprising to me because I was always told not to sing higher than a G when I was in choir.  I wonder why?  Apparently, I can hit way higher.  Anyway, the rest of the lesson went by way too quickly.  My cousin and I were sent home with Wicked music to practice over the week.  Fast forward a few hours.

It was Tuesday night.  I had sat down at the piano as usual to practice my lesson for Thursday.  I was expecting my cousin to be at the house any minute to practice for our voice lesson.  Well, about fifteen minutes later, she arrived.  We were both so insecure and scared of failure as we sang through the CD the first time.  However, taking away the CD, we squeezed onto my piano bench and I began to play the chords, slowly, to the song we had the most difficulty with.  We practiced for what seemed like hours, working hard to establish the gorgeous harmony in the piece.  Eventually, it paid off and we started to nail it, every time.  I would play just chords, she would sing melody and I would harmonize.  Just two voices and a piano.  We realized it was a beautiful thing we had created when we listened to our recording later. 

Music never ceases to amaze me.  I know it's cliche, but it's true.  There's so much to learn and discover about it.  I thought I knew a lot about music as it was, with knowing the piano.  But, embarking on this new musical journey has already started to teach me things I never knew about the musical world.  I can't wait to get deeper into this new endeavor to see what's in store for me.  I'm glad that I left my comfort zone, and I'm so happy to be singing to the piano instead of making the piano sing to me.

Do Re Mi Fa So La Ti Do....Hopefully.

Once again, I apologize for the lack of posts within the past few weeks.  Nothing exciting has happened to me though, and I figured that you, as a reader, would most likely rather not hear about my boring life.  However, yesterday something did happen.  Something exciting.  My cousin and I scheduled a whole summer's worth of voice lessons.  You must understand something about me.  I am nervous, nervous, nervous when it comes to vocal performance.  I once sung a solo on stage and it was the most nerve wracking thing I have ever done.  On stage, that is.  Anyway, for those of you who don't know, my cousin and I are writing a musical (It's going to be amazing), and since it is a MUSICAL, we realized that, inevitably, there would come a point where we we would have to open our mouths and actually, vocally, perform.  This scares the living daylights out of both of us since we are both very inexperienced as vocal musicians.  (Notice I say "vocal".  There's plenty of talent to be witnessed between the two of us in other musical areas.)  So, off to voice lessons we go- weekly, for an hour, over the course of the summer.  I am excited, but also slightly nervous.  Although, being there with my cousin, whom I have no problem singing in front of, will probably take the edge off of the nerves.  I know that my goal, personally, is to be able to perform in front of people and not be nervous and actually sound good instead of just average.  I just hope that my insecurity about my voice won't hold me back from achieving my goals. 

Little Encouragements

*Sigh*.  Graduation.  All my highschool life, I've waited and worked for this- to be able to breathe, relax, call it over.  I'm sitting here on the bed watching raindrops bounce off of the flowers in the garden below my open window.  I can finally afford to chill out a bit and just take it all in.  I love the rain, I love the breeze through open windows, and I love hot vanilla tea.  I also love to be able to enjoy those things without the constant feeling of stress weighing me down.  I feel the need to share the phrase that has been repeating itself in my head like a mantra since I heard it.  But first, I need to tell the story.
It was December 18th.  I was working an annual Christmas Tea catering job, and everything was going wrong.  We ran out of dishes, the tea from the boiler was cold and we couldn't figure out why, things were misplaced, and a few carefully counted finger sandwiches had been dropped on the floor, rendering them useless and us sandwich-less.  The hundred-and-some tea-goers were getting antsy, and therefore somewhat rude to us.  Fast-forward two hours.  The guests had left, the dishes were being collected from the tables, and we had somehow managed to keep everyone satisfied and a teacup never ran empty.  How the three of us had managed it, I will never know.  But as we were exhaustedly (and somewhat deliriously) washing lipstick-stained teacups, the manager of the venue paid us a visit in the kitchen.  She had been in a few other times to check on us and offer help, but staying professional, we had politely declined and said that we were just fine.  During this particular visit, however, she asked us how we had managed with so many mishaps.  After relating the whole story and the things we had used to make-do, she smiled a small smile and said just a few simple words to us that I will never forget.  "See," she said, pouring herself a cup of leftover tea, "it's never as bad as you think."
Those words have rung in my ears since December 18th and have become a motto for me.  During this schoolyear I have been so stressed, and it seems that a majority of the days have been days just like December 18th- when everything seems to be going wrong, and nobody can understand why I'm so frantic.  However, the profound little phrase that Mary said to us in the kitchen that night has struck a chord with me and comforted me whenever I feel like it can't possibly be any worse.  I just convince myself that its not as bad as I think, and someday, in retrospect, I will realize that that phrase couldn't be more true.
That day has finally come.  I'm down to the last sip of my vanilla tea, the rain has slowed to a slight drizzle, and the breeze that's dancing through my open window smells like fresh earth.  I'm in that state of retrospect now, and I see that it was indeed, not as bad as I thought. 

Words of Apology and a Bass Guitar

Wow.  I just realized what day it is, and how long it has been since I last posted.  My apologies.  I do have a resonable excuse though.  I've been busy having a birthday, getting my driver's license, and trying to graduate.  Check, check, and check.  Well, there's a half check on that last one.  The actual ceremony hasn't taken place yet, but it will on Saturday.  I am finished all schoolwork though, and that is exciting and scary and relieving and stressful all at once.
On another note, I have an important decision to share!  I have been fortunate enough to come across a rather random discovery.  A few weeks ago (or has it been months?), my boyfriend decided he was going to buy a bass guitar.  This was totally out of the blue.  So, two weeks ago, I picked it up and started to play it rather jokingly while I waited with him for his band practice to start.  Sitting there listening to him explain notes and strings to me was fascinating.  It was like learning music all over again.  It made sense and I was even able to pick out a few melodies on my own, even though I had never touched a bass guitar before.  It just felt right, and I had an epic vision of rockstardom.  I want to learn how to play the bass now, and hopefully be good at it too.  I've been listening to the bass in songs on the radio and on my iPod (who we will call Buddy from now on, because that's his name), and sometimes I will stop in the middle of the store to see if I can pick it out through the speakers between the noises of the crowd.  I'm fully intrigued and I can't wait until I have my own.  Hopefully, by July that will happen.  I've been promised a trip to Guitar Center as soon as I save enough.  One more thing to look forward to.  I think it will be a good summer. 

The Baldwin on Lexington Road

Inhale...exhale. Beat.
She pushed open the door. It squealed a little on its hinges as it made its slow journey inward. She was hit with the smell of clean floors. Clean, wooden floors. They had probably just been mopped. Squeak, squeak, squeak. Her shoes made a rhythmic sound as she walked across them. Definitely just mopped. Her glance rose from her squeaking shoes to the unlit fireplace in which a large, wooden swan sat poised, reminding her of the many scoldings it had caused her when she was younger. Shifting her gaze still higher, she caught a glimpse of it.
The piano.
It stole the breath right out of her lungs. So ethereal and majestic, it dominated the room. The studio lights were trained on its glimmering dark beauty. The lid was open, a sight that poured music into the heart, even though the instrument remained soundless. It had always been an object of great mystery to her, ever since she was small, but only just that-an object. But now, purposefully standing here in its formiddable presence, she felt its mystery as if it were a living creature, not just a piece of furniture to hide behind during her childhood games of hide-and-seek.
She felt a chill shimmy over her skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. Those studio lights. They were warm.
Hot.
White hot.
She closed and reopened her eyes. The creature was still there. She hadn't moved any closer to it. Why not? Was it fright? Nervousness? Maybe a hint of unworthiness? She shook the feeling, whatever it was, and stepped closer.
Closer.
She could see it clearly now, every detail, every nonexistent flaw. It was gorgeous. She sank to the bench that was perched before it. Lifted her hands above the keys. They suspended hesitantly there for a moment before sliently alighting on the warm, white notes. She looked at her hands, now resting there on the instrument. Chipped black nail polish and a white seashell ring interrupted the perfect pattern of the keys underneath them. They looked so out of place there. On the paino.
Slowly, she willed her right index finger to depress the key on which it rested. The sound that emanated from the belly of the beast was beautiful to her. A solid D rang in her ears, blossoming with vibrato as she held it.

That's how it began. There, in her grandmother's house, with the six foot Baldwin. She had an attachment to the instrument ever since that day, knowing that it was what had taught her and molded her into the musician she had turned out to be. It had played her more than she had played it. The connection she felt to that piano was electrifying every time she sat down to play it.
Thinking about it, she decided she probably had more connection to this piano than her own. It's playful personality and sudden mood swings mystified her. A tempermental thing, really. She'd never played another one like it. Even with all of its random whimsy, it was home. Her own piano, although passionate in mood and familiar in feeling, would never be as comforting as the Baldwin on Lexington Road.

Qualities of a Dancer: Raw and Essential

Grace
Enthusiasm
Wonder
Spontanaeity
Excitement
Beauty
Flexibility
Emotion
Fascination
Intensity
Passion
Intelligence
Energy
Swiftness
Synchronicity
Electricity
Understanding
Connection
Feeling
Courage
Whimsy
Individuality
Love
Tranquility
Musicality
Coordination
Rhythm
Confidence
Devotion
Agility
Expression
Perserverance
Perfectionism
Discipline
Strength

Amazing Grace

There's nothing quite so amazing as feeling used. This Sunday, Easter Sunday, I danced to Amazing Grace and I felt very used indeed. I feel like I gave one of my greatest performances. I think its because I wasn't performing for the audience. I was performing for Someone far greater, and the joy that came through the performance that was portrayed vicariously through me was incredible. I was used. Used to touch lives through a dance. To me, that's the most gratifying feeling, and I'm so grateful to have been able to experience it. I left the stage feeling speechless. I had a surreal moment of personal reflection as I quietly climbed the stairs to the dressing rooms, and I couldn't help but smile. The sight I witnessed at the top of the stairs was proof that I wasn't the only one who felt that way. The rest of the dancers were speechless too. Some were teary-eyed. But we were all smiling the same smile. We had all been used, and sharing that unspoken knowledge in that moment was incredibly beautiful.

So, my lesson learned? Life is too short to be useless. We overanalyze situations too much sometimes, and end up talking ourselves out of participation. In this way, we prevent ourselves from being used. How can you touch a life if you have closed your mind to the idea by convincing youself that your knowledge, personality, talent, whatever, is inadequate? What a sad life to live. We all have doubts about putting ourselves out there, but we need to learn how to ignore them so we can be of the most use possible. I had a purpose on Sunday, and sure I had my doubts and "what-if's", but I didn't let that stop me from providing myself to be used for that Divine purpose. You can't let it stop you, either. You have a purpose too. Go fulfill it.

Take The Shackles Off My Feet

There's a big diference between dancing onstage and dancing in a parking lot. Looking out into the audience from the stage, you see only blackness, no faces. However, looking out at the crowd in the daylight is a different story. You make eye contact, you see their reactions to your dancing, you are at their level. That's what got me the most today- seeing my audience. It threw me off just a bit, dancing on their eye-level. But, eye-level with the audience, I felt more connected to them, and I could tell by the smiles on their faces that they were connecting with me too. And, with that connection established, I felt like I spoke closer to their hearts than I would have been able to do if I were dancing from a blinding stage's point of view. It was a new experience for me, and I can only hope that the ones dancing with me felt the same connections to our audience. I hope that the people left that parking lot today feeling a sense of happiness because of the message we delivered. I know I did.

P.S.-here's the link to the song if you guys want to know what we danced to: Shackles

Stage Fright- An Eventual Love Story

Funny how you can be so nervous to do something then turn around and have it be the thing you miss doing the most. In other words, I wish I were back on stage. With the success of "Proud Mary", I'm ready now to focus entirely on my next two upcoming performances. I cant wait to dance again, despite the butterflies I know I'll get. I love the unique thrill that only comes in the split-second silence between curtain and music.
I stood there today, perfectly posed onstage, waiting for the curtain to part and the music to begin. I felt the hot lights on my face, that wonderful temporary blindness. I drank it in, shedding my nervousness. Then, the music started. I felt the energy rise from my feet to my head. This sudden rush of adrenaline filled my movements. Every jump was higher, every turn was fuller, and every kick was sharper than it had been at dress rehearsal. Each time I am on stage, I walk away amazed at how much the experience improved my performance. To be caught up in the pounding of your heart as your energy level rises with every 8-count is truly a feeling like no other.
These are the moments I live for. The two-minute, thirty-second rush that dancing on a stage creates is the most fantastic thrill I think I have ever and will ever experience. So, the lesson I feel I have learned through performing and the stage fright that inevitably comes with it is this: you can't let yourself be held back by your nervousness. If you do, your performance will be limited by the things you've told yourself you can or can't do. Don't become limited! Don't set restraints for yourself with fear. If you do, you might just miss the thrill of a lifetime.

Just Listen

Ever have one of those days? Like someone just yanked the covers off of you in the middle of a really good dream? I think we all have experienced sudden intense bouts of stress. I sat at the kitchen table this morning trying to catch up on some history reading that I was supposed to have finished yesterday, and was suddenly slammed with some tough questions. How will you ever get everything done that you need to get done to graduate? What were you thinking you could finish highschool early? What if that doesn't happen? Where will you go to college? Will you be accepted? How are you going to bring up your test grades? And there went the warm blanket. My mind laid there for a moment, cold and exposed now; rudely awakened from the dream I had been having of my relatively carefree life. I became completely caught up in the "what if's" and uncertainty I had been unwilling to face. I'm not sure what brought it about, but it seemed as if every indecision I'd ever had, every uncertainty, was surfacing, screaming through my brain. I had to make it stop. Somehow, I had to make all the questions and instability disappear. So, what did I do? What any reasonable musician would. I closed the history book and wandered in to the piano. I let my hands rest there on the keys for a moment, feeling their familiar warmth and potential beneath my frigid fingertips. It started with a note, as it always does, then slowly grew into something beautiful. I smashed the keys under my fingers, pouring all my frustrations and fear into the piano, and hearing them played back at me was liberating. I felt relieved, knowing that whatever uncertainties I have, and will have, that music will always be there for you at the end of the day. I thank God for the steadfastness of His music, and the liberating power it has, a constant reminder that the truth will set you free. You just have to clear your mind and listen for it.

Little Details

So, I've realized that I haven't posted since Wednesday. Time is flying by! Only four days until the Proud Mary performance! I'm so ready for it, too. I have been dancing around the house, practicing, trying to perfect little details. Are my arms off center? Should I put more weight on the left foot? What direction should I turn my head for this step? These are the things that drive me crazy before a performance! But, I have found by observing and practicing that it's the little details like these that will really make or break a dance. Think about the last time you saw someone dance. What struck you the most? The way they had memorized the movements, or the way they portrayed the emotion the music was trying to convey? I think about what makes professionals so much better than everyone else, and I've found that the answer lies in the way they flourish their dance to embody the music. And, they do it so naturally. You can't teach emotion, and by knowing this I come to appreciate the way a dancer commits entirely to stretching the emotion of the music into every cell of the body. This, I believe is what separates greatness from mediocrity. So, as the upcoming performances draw near, I will be reminding myself to pay attention to the little details, because without them, all of my hard work may be percieved as simple mediocrity.

Just A Few Songs

Well, its that time of year again- recital season. As I sit here enjoying my wholesome lunch of shrimp flavored Ramen Noodles and Coke, I realize that there are only ten days until the Proud Mary performance, seventeen days until the Shackles performance, and eighteen days until the Amazing Grace performance. And I'm getting nervous because they all three need a lot of work before they are stage-ready. So what happens when I get nervous? I listen to music to calm my nerves. And so, I've decided to share a couple of my favorite songs with all of you.

Thank You For The Music

~ABBA

Hey Jude

~The Beatles

Bright Lights (Live)

~Matchbox Twenty

Dancing Through Life

~Wicked

Dancing With Trees

"For winter's rains and ruins are over,

And all the season of snows and sins;

The days dividing lover and lover,

The light that loses, the night that wins;

And time remembered is grief forgotten,

And frosts are slain and flowers begotten,

And in green underwood and cover

Blossom by blossom the spring begins."

~Algernon Charles Swinburne

Every year, I look forward to spring- the fresh smell of mowed lawns, the shining colors of blossoming flowers, the warm breeze tossing dandelion seeds through the air. I love everything about the season (except the allergies!) and I aslo love the inspiration it provides for a lot of the things I do, especially dancing.

Every time I turn around, I see how the earth is filled with dancing- butterflies caught up in their fluttering waltz, llittle birds dancing a jitterbug through the treetops, streams laughing as they twirl across creekbed ballrooms.

But the trees are the most beautiful of all. The grace in their magnitude is overpowering, and you can't help but pause to watch them as they bend and bow with the musical wind. Releasing their blossoms to tumble behind them like the sash of a ribbon dancer, they create quite a vivid spectacle of beauty.

Each year, when the trees are in full bloom, and the breeze is warm enough to coax off my jacket, I celebrate by joining the trees in a dance.

At the college near my house, there are lined up neatly beside the road three gigantic trees that produce the biggest, bright pink flowers for about two weeks every May. The first time I remember seeing these gorgeous trees, I was about ten years old. My mother, little brother and I were driving down the road when we were struck with their beauty. We happened to catch them in the prime of their bloom, and the breeze was an orchestra that day. We were so taken by their dance, that we decided to join them.

So, we made the right into the parking lot beside the tennis court, and strode up the small hill to where the trees beckoned us, "Come and dance."

And dance we did.

I remember feeling like a butterfly as I ran under the branches, catching the falling blossoms as they drifted like snowflakes. I spun through the maze of the floating ribbons of flowers, I climbed to the highest branches as they leapt to the windy crescendos; and during the breezy interludes, I sat down on the cool dirt stage with my family and we played the part of the audience, just catching our breath and enjoying the trees' performance.

We vowed to come back every year in May, to dance with the trees and celebrate the renewal of youthfulness that only springtime can bestow.

Too often, I believe, we forsake spontaneity. We get caught up in the hum drum of daily life, and overlook the beauty of nature that was created for us to enjoy. And why? Why do we not take advantage of every little opportunity to celebrate the life we have been given? We only have a few years on planet Earth. Why waste it focusing only on the mundane chores day in and day out? Don't rob yourself of happiness! Get out there and dance! Fill your lungs with the warm spring breeze, and just for a moment or two, forget about that worry or stress that's been such a burden. Just dance. Let tomorrow worry about itself.

Because I Danced

What do some people have to say about the beautiful art of dance?

"There is a bit of insanity in dancing that does everybody a great deal of good."
~Edwin Denby

"Please send me your last pair of shoes, worn out with dancing as you mentioned in your letter, so that I might have something to press against my heart." 
 ~Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

"Dancing is like dreaming with your feet!"
~Constanze

"Dancers are the messengers of the gods."
 ~Martha Graham

"Dancers are instruments, like a piano the choreographer plays." 
~George Balanchine

Dance is, as Constanze says, like dreaming. Just as most people love to dream and be dreamed about, they also love to dance and be danced for. There's an electricity in the air when a figure dances, a sort of energy, I think.
 I was recently at an event that took place in a large arena. During intermission, most people left their seats to go get concessions, or to find their place in the endless restroom lines. But, I decided to stay comfortably at my seat, and it was there that I witnessed one of the coolest things I've seen in a long time. There in the middle of the hustle and bustle of the crowd, a single girl was dancing to the music that was streaming through the arena speakers. There was no one around her, or so it seemed by the way she isolated herself from the people milling about. Just herself and the music. I sat there in row 200, and I watched amazed at what she was doing. I wish I had the courage and the carefree attitude to just full-out dance in a crowd of thousands of people, like no one was watching.
So, my experience has begged the question over and over in my head, "When was the last time you danced like no one was watching?"
Its such a cliche, but such an underperformed act. Who do you know that would get up and pour their soul into a dance in front of the world, but perform it like they were the only figure in an empty auditorium? I would love to say that that person is me, and it remains my goal as a dancer to embody this carefree virtue, because, as someone told me recently, dancers tend to smile more, and be happier people in general. It makes me wonder if I danced more often like no one was watching, even though they were, and if the statement that 'dancers are happier people' is true, and if happiness is contagious, then wouldn't the people who I pretend aren't watching become happier people too? And if dancing is an external reponse to an internal happiness, then maybe those people would start dancing too, and maybe, just maybe, the world would become a happier place. Because I danced.

Satin Shoes and Crimson Silk

Ever since I heard about blogging, I wanted to join in the fun. I had written a few entries on websites like Yahoo, but never really developed a theme or kept up on the posting. Well, this time it will be different. This time, it will (hopefully) be interesting, new, and fresh. And this time, I will get some followers. These are my goals as a blogger. On this blog, I plan to manifest my love for music and dance.

I've been a dancer since I was about three years old. I distinctly remember slipping my tiny feet into Mommy's old pointe shoes and pretending to be a prima ballerina as I twirled around the house. Now, thirteen years later, I have my own dance shoes, and I still twirl around the house.

My life as a dancer began with a pair of tiny white ballet slippers and a matching white dress. I must've been nervous as I followed the line of similarly outfitted tiny dancers padding down the backstage hallways. I remember peeking through the seams in the monstrous black curtain as I waited in the wings, watching the beautiful dancers in ribbons of crimson silk spin and float across the stage. Their pink satin pointe shoes never rested as their glissades and grand jetes urged the music forward. I remember longing to be one of those dancers in the crimson silk. All too soon, the music ended, and the river of silk came to a gentle stop as the dancers floated into a final pose; motionless. The curtain fell. The dancers rose, floated past the line of little ballerinas. I watched them leave through the stage door, and I've still never seen such beautiful dancers.

Since that day, dancing has remained my dream. Now, I wish to share my experiences as a dancer with the world through this humble blog. So, put on some music, pour a cup of warm tea and read on.