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My front facing camera broke on my phone, making my already limited picture taking even MORE limited. Have a throw back from last spring. I have a blog post in the works. Life has been kinda nutty, my laptop *also* bit the dirt, and things have been kind of overwhelming. Y’all are always on my mind, though! You’ll be hearing from me soon. 💕
Classes yesterday brought to you in part by @leakycon (I don’t usually dress up for costume week, but i do try and incorporate Harry Potter to some degree 🤷🏼‍♀️)
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My friend Bailey and her company @companythreesixty made this and I have no more words to add. It’s perfect. #Repost @catchingbreaths with @get_repost ・・・ Why didn’t I report? I didn’t report because I thought that if I’m in a relationship with someone, it meant it was equally my fault. I thought the years of unhealthy feelings towards myself which ensued, were still invalid since it could have been worse. I thought I shouldn’t tell my Momma until a couple of years later on a beautiful mountain walk together, and even then, I softened the story from shame for how I’d appear to the person I love the most. I didn’t report because we live in a world where men use sentences like “it can always be worse” as psychological shrapnel. A world that tells us we should have done more to stop it. A world that, even when I remember the attempts to push away as clearly as consciousness cinema, I was scared to push too hard because I didn’t want to make someone mad. A world that makes me worry at sharing, because I have young students and ‘should be a role-model’: with a role model being pure, respectable, elite, undamaged. Now, a mother, wife, champion, boss... I still worry to report as innocuously as through a #WhyIDidntReport hashtag, lest I somehow appear less for having shared. But as someone who’s survived a darkness far worse than that described, and Shawshanked her way to a life of light- save for second glances over shoulders- I can say that the hardest person to report to is actually... yourself. It’s the you that you had once hoped to be. The you that you’ll never be again. The you that you wish you could go back and protect. The you you wish you had been (louder, less in shock, less weak). The you that once was but was taken. To all the Yous you once were reading this (and the You in me who still feels cemented by shame)... this should never have happened. It doesn’t matter how loud, quiet, forceful... how well you knew them.... You didn’t deserve to lose You because your body wasn’t left as yours. None of us do. None of us ever will. There is no good way to end this bit of writing, because the truth is: it hasn’t ended. A perfect sentence will not wrap this up. Y
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Teaching on my birthday is my favorite thing. Hi, I’m 30, and I gave full sized cupcakes to three year olds and I’m sure their parents hate me

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Week Off.

This weekend was an interesting one as far as rehearsals go. 

We had our first 8 hour rehearsal on Saturday, mostly for swans, but the other bit being for Act III. We had I think three or four girls out for rehearsal, which really wasn’t bad considering it was the first day of spring break for most of the school kids. The girls that were gone the week before were almost all there, so they were able to learn what was missed and we were also able to finish swans altogether. 

The girl who has missed almost all of the rehearsals wasn’t there again (she was the almost from the sentence before this) and Ms Munro switched me with the girl who was covering her. Neither of us had ever done the role we were now assigned to, so we gave each other a crash course and did the best we could. I made a hot mess of myself the first run through, trying to figure out where she was in order, but thankfully the girls near were very helpful and I was better the second run through. My ankle is still a bit tender, and I wish I knew what to do to help it, but I made it through rehearsal alright, just stayed off pointe for the day since I knew we’d have this week off of classes. 

All in all rehearsal went well. If they expect to teach the girl whose always missing everything she doesn’t know, I don’t know how they’ll do it because it is a lot to learn. I tried going over what the girl I had been covering for two weeks before rehearsal and hardly got halfway through. Even then, she was very confused. It’s more than just doing some moves. It’s the beat of the movement, it’s the accent, it’s the head placement, it’s the arm specifications, it’s the specific blocking of the movement. It’s all these things and more, not to mention working with the other girls around you. How do you expect to be part of a corps if you’re not there to know how the rest of the corps moves? 

That whole situation is out of my hands, so I try not to think about it too much. 

For Act III, I’m a Court Lady. We have these giant hoop skirts that don’t allow much movement, so it’s more of a mime sort of role. We stand there and look pretty and give expression. So that rehearsal was fine. Actually, I found the hardest part to be the standing. Since my right leg is longer, just standing there hurts my right side. It’s easier when we’re moving because the weight is typically on one leg or the other. 

Sunday we got more progress on Act I, where I am a Hunts Woman. This is the role I was given that has some sort of dancing in it. It’s not complex, though simple things are what I seem to mess up the most. There are just a ton of people involved in the Act, since it has all the villagers in it as well. I wrote down as much as I could of the blocking and choreography, so hopefully I remember it all come this next Sunday. I get gotten after more for this role than I do in swans, and I get gotten after in swans. Haha! 

We haven’t had classes this week since most of the schools are on break, and I took advantage of the last two days to not dance. 

Which sucked. 

And was hard. 

And I should probably take the rest of the week, but my body is angry for doing nothing. My back started hurting, and my stomach has been getting sick. Not to mention how sore my muscles all are. I’m dog sitting today, so I decided to do a bit of my own barre, just to do something. Also to sort of ease my ankle back into movement, since Sunday I have to go full out again. The dog decided this was prime time to mosey around, walking–and then stalling–between my legs so I couldn’t move, then parking it right by my face when I was doing crunches. 

Usually I hate crunches, but they have this rug that I swear is a slice of the fluffiest whatever you’ve ever felt. 

This house also has a really deep bath tub, so I’m finally able to soak my ankle. I’m hoping it helps, though I don’t really know what soaking actually does. But whatever. I’ll go with the professional recommendation. 

Here’s a time lapse of the barre I did. Please excuse the beginning. I don’t have iMovie on my phone yet and it won’t let me download it without wifi. Haha, the struggle. 

  And for kicks, here’s a terrible quality picture of Annabelle, the dog I’m watching. She’s a hoot. And currently snoring 😀

This entry was posted in dance.
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