I traced my steps back into beginning ballet yesterday. The feel of the brick building, the dancers all around, it felt so good to be back. The company dancers stretching and giving me the eye, like they always do. Like I’m competition.
I actually got a shout out in class (my first?!) for remembering a complex combination, and she did it mid combination so I couldn’t react or smile but I knew I was advancing. The pianist played so beautifully I almost just stopped dancing entirely to listen. It was the best pianist I ever had class with. I could hardly remember what we were doing because the notes were killing me with beauty. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. I looked around the room. Didn’t anyone else hear this? It gave me the chills, goosebumps, made my eyes water, and I remembered every beautiful feeling I have ever felt all at once
I then went to intermediate ballet today where I suffered the worst kid in class syndrome. I shocked myself by keeping up with a lot of it, but I was sandwiched between two company dancers whose pointe shoes rhythmically clopped out a faster pace than I dare to keep, their backs resembled rippling desert sand.
Center work consisted of quick arm transitions, combined with dizzying turns and complex jumps.
I kept up with most of it. I refused to pirouette from lack of being out of the game for so long, and just pléid-passéd-relevéd. I could feel how self conscious I was being. Now it’s spring break. So I won’t be back into the studio until next week.