confessions of an ex-ballerina
I was standing there, up on the stage, wearing pink tights and a striped leotard. On my head was a small sailor's cap and I was done up for the second number we had just danced. We were saluting in a line, looking out at the audience who were clapping at our number, our achievement. I was smiling and I felt the exhilaration rush through me as I thought of one thing and one thing only: this is what I wanted to do.
I am generally shy and I don't really take well to being in the center of attention. However, it was different for some reason with dance; I liked performing and I liked seeing the appreciation the half-hidden audience gave to us after each number we performed for them. Heck, it was fun! All that practice, all that attention to detail... dance was a part of my life and it was something that I never thought I would have to give up.
But I did. I had to give it up.
If there was one thing I would regret for the rest of my life, it would giving up dance. There's just something about losing yourself to the music that had always appealed to me and it is this experience which reminds me of a similar thing I feel when I write or read an interesting book. It's because in dance, all you have to concentrate on is the music and how you should move your body in time with it; it's all honest and you don't have to pretend or to lie to yourself... at least that's how it was for me.
Through the years, I have had the opportunity to do other forms of dance - traditional, ballroom, modern (this is the worst; I simply can't move properly with modern!) and although I do get to enjoy them, I still miss ballet the most. I have always wanted to try again but as you get older, you simply just have to face the fact that it's harder to do so since you're body just doesn't respond the way it used to.
Today, I was in a mall and in that mall there's a dance studio. I rarely come to this mall unless I want to watch a popular movie... in a less crowded cinema. I see all these young girls coming to class wearing their tutus and practicing a number of routines... and a part of me can't help but feel a slight pang of jealousy. "Frustrated dancer" may be an understatement.
Then again, as they say, that's life.
I've found a slight substitute in Barre3 (the exercise I've been doing which involves Pilates, Yoga and the ballet bar) but it doesn't really compare with a teacher showing how to do your plié, piqué and all that while you're sweating endlessly trying to remember how to balance yourself while aligning your whole body the right way so as to not injure yourself.
I miss those days.
I am generally shy and I don't really take well to being in the center of attention. However, it was different for some reason with dance; I liked performing and I liked seeing the appreciation the half-hidden audience gave to us after each number we performed for them. Heck, it was fun! All that practice, all that attention to detail... dance was a part of my life and it was something that I never thought I would have to give up.
But I did. I had to give it up.
If there was one thing I would regret for the rest of my life, it would giving up dance. There's just something about losing yourself to the music that had always appealed to me and it is this experience which reminds me of a similar thing I feel when I write or read an interesting book. It's because in dance, all you have to concentrate on is the music and how you should move your body in time with it; it's all honest and you don't have to pretend or to lie to yourself... at least that's how it was for me.
Through the years, I have had the opportunity to do other forms of dance - traditional, ballroom, modern (this is the worst; I simply can't move properly with modern!) and although I do get to enjoy them, I still miss ballet the most. I have always wanted to try again but as you get older, you simply just have to face the fact that it's harder to do so since you're body just doesn't respond the way it used to.
Today, I was in a mall and in that mall there's a dance studio. I rarely come to this mall unless I want to watch a popular movie... in a less crowded cinema. I see all these young girls coming to class wearing their tutus and practicing a number of routines... and a part of me can't help but feel a slight pang of jealousy. "Frustrated dancer" may be an understatement.
Then again, as they say, that's life.
I've found a slight substitute in Barre3 (the exercise I've been doing which involves Pilates, Yoga and the ballet bar) but it doesn't really compare with a teacher showing how to do your plié, piqué and all that while you're sweating endlessly trying to remember how to balance yourself while aligning your whole body the right way so as to not injure yourself.
I miss those days.