Today I drove almost an hour to see two of my baby’s last recitals before they move.
(Keep in mind that one of these “babies” is in my class. And way better than me. So.)
They take classes at our studio, and also a smaller studio that is actually comprised of studios in three different small, local towns. I think I actually might have taken my first ballet classes when I was 6 at one of them, but I am not sure. Anyway.
Their recital was themed Peter Pan, with every dance going along the lines of the greater story.
It was really cool being on the outside in. We performed Nutcracker at this small town, high school theater this last year, as well as Wizard of Oz last spring. I was inundated with memories of these past shows, all while knowing the end of this one would mean saying goodbye to one of my favorite families of all time.
I was actually really impressed with how good all of these girls feet are. Every single one of them looked good in their shoes. I was told that they dance in their shoes almost the entire class, putting them on earlier than we do. And you can see the difference.
Everything else was about as much as you would expect from a small town on a tiny stage. It’s amazing how you see the same things no matter where you go. There’s the tiny adorable little ones, there’s the obvious stand outs, there’s the ones that work super hard and would have serious potential in the right hands. Then there’s kids that you could judge one way or another, then you hear their story and are completely shocked. There’s the kids you wouldn’t believe have only been dancing as long as they have based on their skill, or there’s no way they’re that young because they light up that stage. (Or can’t believe they’re that young because they’re so dang tall.)
I found myself studying the feet of each girl, gleaning what I could from how each of them danced, whether it was good or not so good. You can learn from each person. How do they get that high in their jetes? What is it they’re doing that makes the line look cut? Do I do that? And if so, how can I keep my line from being cut like that? These sort of things.
You can learn a lot if you let yourself.
My favorite part was seeing how these dancers completely lit up on the stage. They did their darnedest with these complex moves and you could tell they get good doing it, which made it enjoyable to watch.
I recognized a few faces I didn’t expect to see. Some of my red soldiers from this last years Nutcracker were on stage. One was Michael, one was the Crocodile, another was a fairy and all were in many various different dances. I was able to say hi to one of them, Sarah, and she said, “you remember me?”
I often find myself getting nervous that people won’t remember me, instead of pushing through that bit of nerves to show them that I remember them. And hearing her say that, it taught me something. Reminded me, rather. I heard myself in her voice. And I was glad I said something.
I got to hug my babies and take pictures with them. Including this Polaroid
There was a moment I took a picture with Sarah, the youngest little, but my hair got into my face so I did this hair flip thing before posing for the picture. It hit me like a slap in the face. Like a flash back, but then I was the little and I was hugging the “big kid” I looked up to and wanted to be just like. And I saw her, she did her hair flip before taking the picture, and I was completely in awe. And is go home with a heart full of hope of my future and dreams of what my life could be. And now, here I am, 27 and the roles are flipped. Yet, I’m still very much the 10 year old version of myself.
I don’t think we ever truly grow up, and I think those that try and stifle their childhood versions of themselves, and shove it down until they can’t see it anymore, are the types that spend the most time trying to define themselves. Maybe they had a terrible childhood. Maybe they didn’t like who they were. Maybe they didn’t know who they were, I don’t know. But I feel like 98.7% of people have the same childlike heart until the age of 6, and if we can remember that version, stay true to that version, we’ll have a more fulfilling life.
Anyway. I don’t even know if any of that made sense, but whatever. I’m in this really contemplative state.
The show made me want to come home and work on technique drills. (So I did.) I want to do more, I want to try more, I want to be more, but I feel kinda lost in direction.
There are many thoughts in my head. Many hopes in my heart. Many questions only time can answer.
I’ll be posting a Capezio haul sometime this week, hopefully. I’m going to Kansas on Thursday for my cousins wedding. I have class tomorrow (more than likely) and they have class Wednesday but I don’t know if I’ll go seeing that were leaving on our 14 hour drive early in the morning the next day.
Here’s some pictures I do have, as well as some I snuck during the show ❤️
Goodbyes suck and I miss my girls already. But I was so glad to get to see them dance one more time before they go. And especially to see Sarah dance en pointe for the first time. Theyre coming to visit in June so hopefully I’ll get to see them then. And thankfully technology is a thing so we can keep up with each other.
This year has had a lot of goodbyes, and left me feeling weird with all the change. I’m eager to get summer going so maybe I can get back into a flow.
(And every time I see the sign and the elephant and the cookie jar my babies gave me, I’ll smile. They’re always with me.)