Author: Emilee

Monday

Yesterday was my first actual class back since I had to sit out/was out of town (conveniently during the same time.)
And I’ll be honest with you, part of me didn’t want to go.
Don’t get me wrong, I love ballet. I’d dance every day if I could.
So why didn’t I want to go?
Honestly, I’m not sure.
Maybe a part of me got lazy. Maybe I liked having time to get things done.
Maybe it’s because it’s the more difficult and advanced class, with the students who are better than me. Maybe it’s because I was exhausted of facing that by just the thought of it.

Still, I went.
Like all the time before, I told myself how much happier I would be after going.
That I want this.
There is always the risk that it’ll be an off day and my fears will be confirmed and I’ll wish I hadn’t gone. But the odds of this happen are far less than the odds of it not happening.
I went, and I was exhausted.
My arches were angry and my calves were sore.
I had to soak my ankle after class to be safe. It did alright in class, but I could feel it which isn’t a good thing. I figured better safe than sorry.

These days can be extra overwhelming, since I’m still adjusting to the new studio.
It’s getting better, and I’m acclimating, but part of me is still homesick for the place I can never be again. To be surrounded by something familiar, predictable, and to be around people whose names I know and who know mine. There’s an unspoken competitive strand that every dancer gives off, and sometimes it can be overwhelming. Until you get to know them, and are reminded that even the greatest dancers are human and probably look to you for one thing or another that you had no idea about.

Leaving class, a few more people spoke to me. One of the sweet younger ones smiled at me and I think recognized me from Nutcracker rehearsals. My teacher smiled at me as she passed by me.
I know I’m not perfect, and I know this class is a little above where I stand, but it is a nice feeling to go and leave feeling like people like having you there. Instead of feeling like you don’t belong or aren’t wanted.

Here is a picture of one of the younger girls watching the older girls doing their fouette’s.
I didn’t get my phone out fast enough for the better shot of it, but considering how long it took to get my phone, I was lucky to have a chance at a shot at all.

First Nutcracker Rehearsal

I got there unintentionally early, which ended up being a good thing since the annual Jazz Fest was across the street and parking was a joke.

I had barely finished sewing my pointe shoes at work. I had actually forgotten until about 3pm (I get off at 4:30) When I was putting together the new desk my boss got for me and realized I didn’t have much time. I wasn’t 100% sure if we would be wearing our shoes or not, but figured I should have them sewn just in case. I mean, the part isn’t that long, and this rehearsal is 2 1/2 hours. Surely we’d get into them.

This is before rehearsal started. I told the girls I needed to get a picture since I kept forgetting to take any for this blog. They were rather excited.
So we got started with a barre warm up, then referenced last year’s DVD for the choreography. Ms Munro put us in order by height, which thankfully there’s one other girl whose around my height, so I don’t stick out awkwardly among the other dancers. (Who are at least 10 years younger than me.)
She put us into two groups for the two different sides of the stage we would enter. The girls in my group would prove to be pretty great, as they were the quieter ones who paid attention and in turn gained the praise of Ms Munro. Which is coveted. Go team.
We learned the entire dance, which wasn’t too hard for me being that it’s rather short. But I definitely recognize the different parts I’ll need to improve on so I don’t look like a blubbering idiot up there. 
Ms Munro worked with the lead Chinese, who were adorable to watch. The girls are about 11, and the boys they are partnering are probably in high school, so the girls were rather giggly. But they would keep it together to get the dance done, which I thought was very mature of them. It was quite entertaining to watch. 
Ms. Munro had us put our pointe shoes on to work on the dance the second half, so we could get a feel for it.
This was the first time I had put these shoes on. They weren’t broken in at all, and I wasn’t even sure if they were sewn well. They proved to be pretty darn good.
I got mine on before the other girls, so I went over and walked in them a bit on the studio floor. I was instantly nervous when I remembered that there was a pirouette in the choreography, and the last time I did one was on this floor during auditions when I rolled my ankle. 
For some reason, the floor seemed squishier than usual and I felt less stable. I was anxious, to say the least, but tried not to let it overcome me. I could do this. I had to do this.
So I did a couple preparations to get the feel for the shoes and the floor, did a couple of almost intentionally horrible pirouettes to get the feel, then Ms Munro came over, as the other girls were practicing various things as well. One did a pirouette, then the other, and then she was looking at me. So, I gave it my best shot. 
I made it around, didn’t land it the best, but didn’t eat it either. Ms Munro said, “Good!” and carried on as if it wasn’t an emotionally traumatic thing for me. 
(Yes, that’s a little dramatic. But you get what I mean.)
I was a little discouraged that I could feel my foot slipping in my wondershoes.
(You know, the shoes I won through the Capezio fitting. )
I don’t remember them feeling like that at the fitting, and I really didn’t want a repeat of my Russians, where I couldn’t do a darn thing due to the pain it put on my big toe, instead of holding my foot like the Grishkos which–inevitably–lead to my rolled ankle.
I put it out of my mind and determined to do my best. I couldn’t do anything about it now, anyway. Plus, they’re brand new, and I’m wearing different toe pads then when I tried them on. Yes, that must be it.
I didn’t make it the whole rehearsal on them, but I sure did my best. I also didn’t push myself too hard and look ridiculous. I did last longer than I ever did in Russians, so I started to feel better about it. This was also the longest I had ever danced in pointe shoes at one time, so that was something to be said. 
When I couldn’t take it anymore, I just did the choreography on demi-pointe and gave really good face. Ms Munro never said anything. I think she knew I could do it and knew I was doing what I had to. So that was nice.
My fellow member of TeamTall hadn’t made it to rehearsal yet when we were going over the last bit of the dance. It involved bouree-ing around, back to back, with your partner for a certain amount of counts, doing a little jig, then bouree-ing around again to the finish. Ms. Munro demonstrated with me, liked how it felt, and wanted to see it. 
For some reason, no one else seemed to be able to grasp the concept.
It made me feel good that I was able to keep a clear head (which I can lose easily, especially in new situations) and follow along. Usually I’m too nervous to jump in and demonstrate things, but I guess I felt a sense of responsibility to set an example, being that I’m older. I don’t know. Anyway.
Summer–my TeamTall partner–came in at that pointe, put on her shoes in a hurry, and jumped in. (After a mini warm up.) (Ps. She was at CRP training, so she had a good reason to be late. Yay, Summer!) Ms. Munro showed her what we were trying to accomplish, and she busted it out near perfect and Ms. Munro was pleased, and ended up using us as the example for the rest of rehearsal.
I gave Summer a little mini talk-through of the steps, and Ms Munro went over them once, then she was thrown in. And let me tell you, I was impressed. Sure, she didn’t have it perfectly down-pat, but the girl kept up marvelously. By the end, she looked to be about the same level as the rest. She kept saying, “I don’t feel confident in this at all!” Which is understandable, since she was thrown in to a sink-or-swim kind of scenario, but man, did that girl swim. 
I know she’ll have it down by next rehearsal and blow everyone’s socks off. 
All in all, I’m excited about Nutcracker. I felt a little bit of shame in telling my parents they would be paying all this money to see me on stage for a minute, but they seemed not to care. I just can’t get their reaction to my recitals out of my head. (We don’t want to sit through all those baby dances just to see you for 2 1/2 minutes.) especially now that the tickets aren’t free. 
But whatever.
I’m doing this, and I’m going to have fun.
I’m going to keep my eyes and mind wide open to see everything there is to see about this entire experience. I hope to learn and improve and have fun with the girls. 
I also ordered the toe pads like what I had when I tried on the shoes, in hopes it helps.
I refuse to give up.
(These are my dead little feet after rehearsal.)

That one time I was interviewed for a newsletter.

Yeah, that happened.

My friend over at Introvertology asked to interview me on what it’s like to be an introvert in the field of photography. 
It was pretty cool, and you should check it out!
She also asked about dancing, so if you haven’t already clicked the link, do it now. 
This has never happened to me before, so I’m kinda geeking out.
Thea, the wonderful lady who runs Introvertology, found me on twitter when I hashtagged something as #introvert. It was under a different name at the time, and I looked at her posts and thought they were pretty great, so I gave her a follow. (Wonderful marketing skills, right there.)
When she decided to change the name, she did a little survey on which ones some of us liked over others. Now Thea has a really amazing newsletter going and a website. Even an introvert book club and recommendations! It’s an introvert’s dream, really.
I love getting to see how far it’s come, and am honored that she asked to interview me. She was even patient with me when I had to jet off to Kansas to see my aunt before surgery and didn’t have access to the pictures to send her, and even more patient when my laptop crashed and I had to find other ways to get to my pictures. 
If you’re an introvert, I suggest you give her a follow! 
Introverts unite, separately! 

So You Think You Can Dance.

Growing up, we were never the kids that got to go to the concerts or big events that we saw on TV, heard on the radio, and our friends were going to. Back then, nothing came south of Houston, and that was just too much for us to try to do. I never really regretted it or anything, but I kinda wrote off in my head that things like that were impossible.
Well, last night the impossible happened.
If you know me, you know I’m mildly obsessed with So You Think You Can Dance. I’ve always like it, but this season in particular was one that I followed closely; making notes throughout auditions on who I thought would go far, claiming favorites early on, watching those favorites make it into the top 4, and my other favorites past the top 10. I wanted so badly to go to the US Tour the top 10 does, but the Houston show was the same day as Bailando, and I knew I couldn’t miss that. They had a show in San Antonio, but it was on a Monday. It didn’t seem feasible to go and drive back the same night so I could make it to work on Tuesday, especially since I am notorious for falling asleep with my eyes open. Yeah, that’s not a good mix for driving.
I had a viewing party with two of my dance friends for the two-part finale. (Mainly because Directv doesn’t get Fox, and I really wanted to see this live, so, I mean, Andie wasn’t sad.) The first Wednesday night, another dance friend was texting me over how amazing the dances were. She told me that they were going to see the tour in San Antonio and how excited she was about it. At first I was overwhelmed with jealousy. This was something I wanted so much I couldn’t explain it. There’s something about dance that touches parts of the soul nothing else can touch. It connects people in ways like nothing else. This season was so special to me, and I really wanted to see it full through, I wanted to see it live. I half-jokingly told Natalia she should tell her mom to take me with them, to which she responded, “I can ask her!”
And she did.
And her mom was totally okay with it.
So I asked where her tickets were, and looked up one in the same vicinity. The app automatically picked the best seat unless you told it otherwise, so I just went with it. I was shaking at the fact that this was happening and couldn’t form thought process to try and think through anything, but I mean it would tell me, right? So I bought the ticket, freaked out, and just hoped this wouldn’t blow up in my face like most things do. All too often I’ll get my hopes up for something, just to have it shot down by one thing or another; but this, this looked hopeful. When I got home, I opened up my laptop and looked up the seating of the Majestic Theater to see where my seats were.
Turns out OR RGT C10 meant the freakin’ second row on the right side.
The second row.
Second row!
There’s no way!
Surely, there will be a boom camera or something blocking my view. There’s no way it was this easy. Maybe a pillar or something. There has to be some reason this ticket was there. After all, it was the only non-VIP seat in the row.
For being one all about documenting the journey, I sure have a way about keeping silent about how I really feel up until it happens and I know it’s sure. Thoughts to ponder there…
So anyway, Natalia and I are counting down the days, and when Monday finally arrives I’m nervous-excited at work all day. I met her at her house at 4:45 and we headed off for San Antonio.
Natalia and I are at different studios, now that Instep has closed, so it was really good to get to have the drive to spend time with her. Man, I miss my dance friends so much!

We get to San Antonio, and the Majestic is downtown leading us to have to wind our way around one way streets to try and find a parking garage that isn’t full. In doing so, we drive past a bunch of buses and semi-trucks. As we wait for traffic to move, we see Rudy among a bunch of Tech people.

(Total Creeper Shots)


Natalia is beside herself, but we refrain from jumping out and instead just go to find parking and head inside. We bought shirts and programs and just stood in awe of how beautiful this venue is. We tried to soak in every moment of this entire night, and let me tell you, there was so much to soak in.

(We are excited)

The little sounders to let you know the show is about to begin start tinkling so we make our way to our seats. When I asked the usher where to go, he told me, “Down this Aisle, look for row C on the right.”
So I did.
And as I got halfway down I realized I was just at row Q, and row C is like, way farther.
So I looked up.
No boom camera.
No pillar.
The only thing “in my way” was a lone cable from the stage that didn’t matter 99.8% of the time.
How is this really happening?
I get to my row, and the rest of the seats are filled with two excited little girls and their Grandmother, with a seat open for their Mother as well. We greeted like old friends, and the oldest proudly told me, “I’m gonna be on So You Think You Can Dance when I turn eighteen!”
“Well that’s amazing! What’s your name, so I know to look for you?”
“Maddie Wartsbaugh”
“Alright Maddie, I’m gonna be rooting for you the whole time! How many years do I have to wait until it’s your turn?”
“Eight, no…Seven years!”
“I’m looking forward to it!”
The younger sister piped up that she would also audition when she turned 18 and we all high-fived. The Grandmother told me that watching the show had become their girls night, and that they were surprised to see that tickets were still available when they bought theirs. By this time, the Mother had returned, and they said they thought they had balcony seats! We were all on cloud 9 the whole show. I couldn’t have asked for better seat mates!

(Maddie is in the pink)

I felt like I was watching dear friends up on that stage. From where I was sitting, you could see them in the wings before the show. They were so excited, and tired, and pumped, and just happy to be living life this way. 
From start to finish, I was blown away.
I don’t think I said much more than, “Wow!” the entire night. (honorable mentions were, “I love this one!” “How are they even real?” “What is life?” and “OH MY GOSH HER FEET.”)


I also found it mildly amusing that my seat was right below the point they spotted their corner. There were even times when the lights were dim that one of the dancer’s eyes met mine, and you know it wasn’t just them staring into the void. Their face changed for a second at the realization that there were real people out there and we all felt something together and this is what dance is all about.


When the show ended, my new friends and I were talking about how great it was. I mean, anyone can say a show is great, but this one literally took everyone’s breath away. 
“I feel like they took us to another level. This was other worldly.”
I agree, Grandmother. I agree.

And that’s what I love about dance. 
It makes you as a dancer feel alive, which in turn makes the audience feel like there is something more to this life. 

There were moments where I would look at the audience, and see what their reaction was. All the faces lit by the glow of the stage lights, captivated by what was before them; art at its finest.
I could hear the dancers breathe from where I sat, which is the sign of a good dancer. To lose yourself in it so much that the timing of your breath matches the movement not only helps you as you dance, but just emotes so much more and takes your dancing to another level. (Zach and Emilio were really good about this. Some of the girls, too.)
I loved that I was close enough to see the humanity of the dancers; the hair pins flying out during their pirouette’s, the glitter shaking off Tanisha’s silver sparkle costume, their freckles, bruises from countless rehearsals and performances, even cellulite. Now, granted, not on everyone. But, honestly, seeing that a top 10 dancer on my favorite dance show ever had cellulite too, and was built like I was, but was still regarded as beautiful and sexy and talented; it did so much for my confidence.
I try to remind myself of how I feel when I would see someone at a recital or in a picture or whatever that was shaped more like me; how it made me feel empowered. And how instead of beating myself up about how genetics shaped me, I wanted to try and face all the voices in my head with dynamics and try not to pick myself apart to much because there’s probably a little girl out there shaped the same way who feels “If she can do it, so can I.” And if there’s just one little girl that feels empowered, it’s more than worth it.

These are real people; normal people. They came from their normal lives, headed to an audition with a dream, and ended up here, doing what they love for thousands of people.
It’s amazing what can happen in a year.
And the fact that they’re real people just doing what they love is what makes me not only love them, but respect them. They are normal people, and they inspire other normal people. And this is what I hope to be like. And I had this worded perfectly in my head at 4:30 this morning as I fell asleep, so bare with me because I’m struggling to remember how it went now.
I know that they already saw 5 other cities worth of people, and that they have tons more ahead. I know that in the city I was attended, I was only one person out of a hundred. But for that moment, for that minute, they looked at me, they spoke to me, they cared about me. They made everything I felt this entire season of dances more real than I could have ever hoped. They connected with me, and I felt like I could do anything. That my point on this earth will be a good one, that I’ll accomplish everything I need to, that I can be that person to someone one day.
I’m going to change the world, I know I am.
And it’s not because I’m any better than anyone else; it’s because I’m not.
Real people need real people to show them it’s okay to be real.
I want to be that person.
And I may not have a huge platform for inspiring, but that’s okay. My life is a platform. And while it’s really nice to know thousands of people love you, it’ll be empty until you can appreciate when it’s just one person. If one person isn’t worth it, than who are you really? Why are you doing what you do? For what cause?
To me, it’s worth the one. It’s worth the people in my little world; because to them, it’s not so little.
And that’s what keeps me going. That’s what inspires me. That’s what makes life worth living.
This life is about people.

Oh yeah!  We totally happened upon the meet and greet by the fact that God loves us and was like, “here ya go!” hah.
We were walking to the parking garage and were trying to find stairs that weren’t congested. In doing so, we ended up on the side of the building we saw the buses.
And there was a group of people.
So we checked it out.
And this lady comes up behind us and says they always come out and talk to the fans that wait out there.
So we waited.
And HOLY CRAP, HOW DID THIS ACTUALLY HAPPEN?

So, here is a recap of my sometimes awkward conversations with these amazing people I got to meet.

When they set up the barricade thing, they asked some of us to fill in the back. Most people were hesitant, but I jumped on it, since it was at the very end. This would either be a great idea, or a horrible one.
Turns out, the cast came out of the other door than where people started lining up.
Ya know, the door I was right next to.

(I swear I’m not a creeper.)

Rudy was the first to come out. I think I was so in shock that this was actually happening, I forgot to get a picture with him. But I did creeper-shot him. The girl next to me told him he smelled good, to which he mentioned they got to shower, to which I said, “Thank you for that.”
That’s right, I thanked him for showering.
Emilee Awkward at it’s finest.

They spread the cast out throughout the line, having some start at our end, and some at the opposite. all the while, the other members were ninjas in getting the the bus to drop off their stuff without being detected.

Next was Teddy, who was one of the ones who caught an obvious eye contact, as he smiled for my camera, which was the only one visible in our section at that time.
He wasn’t top 10, so I asked him to draw himself on the front.
“I’m doing a body roll, because it’s my favorite dance move.”

Classic.

Then Zack came by.
At this point, it’s starting to sink in. He was one of my favorites from auditions, so I was slightly freaking out at the fact he was in front of me. I know we spoke, but I don’t remember about what. He was really nice.

Next, Marquette came through, which from the beginning I swore I knew him from somewhere. So much so, that I actually googled him. Still haven’t figured out why he seems so familiar. When he was talking to the girls next to me (Who were FREAKING OUT, it was adorable) one of them said, “I’m under so much pressure!” to which Marquette and I both sang, “Under Pressure!” at the exact same time. It was quite the moment. We fist bumped. He also drew himself 🙂

Next was Ricky, who was rocking Harry Potter glasses and shorter than I expected. (Which is the sign of a good dancer, fun fact.) He came to me first and was insanely kind. Just happy to be there and hilarious. A friend I made in the line was really excited to meet him, so I don’t remember exactly what we said because I wanted to make sure he didn’t miss out on seeing him.

Tanisha was the first of the girls I got to meet. And let me tell you, she is a gem. I was blown away during the show by how well rounded she really is. They put her in many of the roles that were originally danced by Allstars during the show, and she slaughtered it!
She was rather concerned for the girls next to me that were freaking out. One of them was so in shock she could speak. When she apologized for crying, Tanisha said, “I cry all the time, crying is the most real emotion.” This is something that will stay with me. I told her how amazing it was to see her take on those allstar roles and how she rocked it out there and was like the unspoken force that just came in and blew everyone away. We talked about the drive to Missouri, and how I’m driving to Kansas tomorrow, and she was just so kind. The other half of my friends I made in line got a really hilarious picture of her, too. It was great. She was great. A quality individual, for sure. When she signed Anne’s (the girl who was freaking out) program, she made a comment of how Marquette always signs by her face. I said, “It’s Marqnisha!” Then was all, “wait, what?” And she kinda looked at me, like, “Wait, what?” And I said, “I dunno, I was trying to put your names together. Marqnisha, Tanquette? No, definitely Marqnisha.” She said, “Oh that’s great, I’m gonna pass that one along!”

This was when my camera died. And I was so sad. But my new friends came to the rescue, and Valerie was so patient with me.

Valerie was the one I most looked forward to seeing, since she was my favorite from the beginning, and just so real. That’s what struck me about her. Real people are the best people. Before she got to me, everyone else was freaking out and she would say, “Guys, I’m normal! I’m just a normal person!” and when she got to me, I told her, “I think that’s what makes you so great, you’re a normal person. Thank you for that. Thank you for being who you are.” She was so kind, and hilarious, and sweet. I didn’t pass out or say anything embarrassing, so miracles happen, guys.

Next came Jessica, who I was also really excited to see and was the favorite of the 2nd half of my line buddies. She was also very genuine and kind and real. So refreshing. I told her I loved the songs she danced for her solos, and she told me, “You know what’s crazy is I didn’t even pick “All About That Bass.” I told her I loved that her songs were always encouraging songs, and that it really hit me when she danced to the Beyonce song, “I was here.” It really made a statement. She said, “Girl, I could dance to Beyonce all day!” To which I said, “Man, me too!” She was really warm and kind. Such a gem to meet.

I’ll be honest, I had a hard time telling the difference between Carly and Bridget. This happened all season and as soon as I thought I got it down, I’d mix em up. So I was probably most awkward with her. But man, she handles awkwardness like a champ. She was so kind, strikingly so. (Ps. It’s Bridget.)

Next was Casey. Literally, he came over to me and enveloped me in a giant hug. (The only one to do this. They hugged other people, but I tried to keep my cool and not be a fangirl HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA because I am. But he didn’t care. He wrapped his arms around me like we were old friends, and I just said, “How are you real?” He was really nice and funny and seriously, his face seems like it’s photoshopped. And his hair. How the heck is that real? I dunno. But he was really cool and kind and funny. (growing trend here? whatever.) It was great.

Okay, I was really excited about meeting Jacque, too. She is a ballerina so I automatically connected to her at auditions. I loved what Nigel had to say about her at auditions and his reverence for the art of ballet. (Not to mention, her solo was AMAZING.)  She also reminds me of my friend Rachael, who is the one who inspired me to dance and believed in me when I was too insecure to think it possible. She is seriously the sweetest person ever, and her faces on stage are dynamic. Her technique was spot on and her grace overflowed. Truly an inspiration to meet her. Insert fangirling here.

Last, but definitely not least, was Emily. (Ps. My duo line buddies waited for me to get the picture for me. And Emily almost missed us! But she was super kind and turned back around.) The first thing out of my mouth, “OH MY GOSH, YOUR FEET.” To which she responded, “Oh my gosh, thank you!” Which only dancers could have conversations like that. She was great. I told her how glad I was to hear she was coming on tour, because she was one of my favorites. I thanked her for taking her time out to meet us, to which she was all, “Oh of course!” and happy, ya know? It was so wonderful. I had her draw herself as well. She said, “Oh, I be Marquette started this, huh?” And I told her, “Actually, Teddy did! With his belly roll.” so then she was like, “Oh, it’s on.” And she drew herself with a sweet bun and earrings that looked like hair but we knew it was earrings. It was great.

The only people we didn’t get to meet were Carly and Emilio. Emily said that Carly wasn’t feeling well (which is amazing, because she danced impeccably well. But her ankle was wrapped, so I’m sure that was hurting her.) and Emilio was having dinner with his family. Because, ya know, he’s from Houston (:D) So that was okay.
All throughout the makeshift meet and greet, I would have moments of realization of “Oh my gosh, this is happening. Right now. It’s still happening.” And would freak out at “How the heck does this happen? This never happens to me. Ever.” And I was so grateful for the lady and her daughter who told us they always do the meet and greets if you know where to go and they take time out to meet everyone and take pictures. And I was even more grateful to Natalia’s mom for letting us stay, even though it meant getting back to Corpus at 3:07am.

Best night of my life. Seriously.
Words can’t describe what all that evening meant to me.
It felt so real. I felt so alive. It made me want to dance even more, and mad that my ankle is still messed up and I have work, but then happy that I’m alive and have the little life I do.
And I doubt any of them will remember me, (except maybe Tanisha. Ya know, Marqnisha.) But that’s okay. Because for that moment, they knew who I was. They may not have known my name, but they heard my stories and held conversation. Those are the moments that you know will stay with them as a whole, and stay with you. And that’s a beautiful thing.

I’m on cloud 9.

Edit: Upon re-reading this, I must apologize for the umpteen million typos laced throughout. I was clearly excited and wasn’t proof-reading. Oops.

Bailando Pictures!

Here are a few of the pictures I took during the Bailando Dance Festival master classes I wrote about in the previous blog 🙂

Dancers in Susan Trevino’s ballet class.

Dancer’s in Alexis Anderson’s Lyrical class. (I think.)

Dancers in  Orlando Canova of Ballet Austin’s class

Alexis Anderson in Dana Nicolay’s ballet class.
I believe this was   Walter Hull’s class.

Orlando Canova’s class

Dana Nicolay correcting a dancer

Wilgene David’s Hip-Hop class.
(Those two in front are from my old studio 🙂 )

I may post some performance pictures later. Not sure when I’ll have time since I’m getting home after midnight tonight and leave for Kansas on Wednesday. We’ll see if I have time tomorrow. Stay Tuned!

Bailando

This weekend was the annual Bailando Dance Festival at our local University.
My old dance teacher works at the university and helps put it on, so it was kind of like a mini Instep reunion.
Which was so wonderful.

I wasn’t able to dance, so I took pictures of the classes and helped Leslie with whatever was needed.
This kind of sucked–having to watch everyone else take all these amazing classes from the sidelines–but then it was also awesome. I was able to sit in on a bit of every single class. If you were in one downstairs, you couldn’t be in the one upstairs as well. You don’t have a clone. But I was able to go in and out of all of them.
Inadvertently so, I was able to sit in on classes I normally wouldn’t have the courage to take; namely modern and contemporary classes.
I love when I have the opportunity to learn from a variety of different teachers. One may see something another may overlook and vise versa. This weekend definitely opened up my mind to dancing as an art.
Here are a few points I learned from a few of the choreographers.

  • Never dance with judgement. Only dance for the artistry. (From Alexis Anderson’s class)
  • Don’t. Judge. Yourself. (Also from Alexis.)
  • Think of yourself as Mr. Potato Head. Your arms are like sticks and the body is the potato and doesn’t move. (Oddly effective from Dana Nicolay’s class. #teampotato)
  • Strive for progress not perfection. (From Gabriel Speiler of Dance Au Deum.)

There were a million other things I didn’t get to write down, as well. Like in the one class from the director of Urban Souls; I was completely inspired by how open the dancers were required to be. There was no “I can’t,” There was no doubt. There was confidence. And seeing those nervous dancers find their confidence and seeing the improvement made me see that I could do that, too.

I was able to watch and envision myself doing the different moves, to try and pick them apart and think of how I would execute the moves. I was able to find in myself a bit of belief that maybe I could do these things if I tried.
I loved getting to watch the dancer’s feet; to see what is correct and what probably feels correct but isn’t. I loved watching the port de bras and understanding the placement of the body in all these things.
I also loved getting to take pictures during these classes, helping me remember what looks right and how to do it. It also helps remind me of what I learned and gleaned from this weekend. I apparently really like the word “glean.”

(A couple of my favorite moments were when I realized Mel Glouchkova was using the Harry Potter theme song for barre work, and when Randall Flynn was using a Misty Edwards song for contemporary. Did my heart good.)

I found myself on a dance high. I am sad to still have to miss two more of my Thursday classes, but it’s a good way to keep me off my ankle to make sure it’s 100% when I go back, and it’s for good reason.
I just miss dance.
(I still have to sew my shoes. so there’s that.)
Also, we had our Nutcracker costume fitting, and it made it feel real.
I was glad to get to be with the other girls all together, I think it’ll be fun.

Nutcracker Casting.

I got a snapchat of what I got for Nutcracker.
And I wasn’t prepared for it.
And let me tell you, I cried.
And not really a good cry either.
And now that I’ve had a day to process and think through, I don’t really want to write this blog post. But this is part of my story, and I have to tell this part to get to the next; just like I had to live through this part to get to the next.
So, hear me out.
I got the snap chat, with my name horribly misspelled–which I’m used to by now–and found out that I got Chinese.
Which isn’t bad, I guess.
But I sure had hopes that I’d at least be petit fleurs. Something with a tutu.
I have heard so many people complain about Chinese.
I’ve only seen The Nutcracker twice, so I’m still kinda rusty on which rolls are which, but I knew what Chinese was and where it was because the first time I saw The Nutcracker, my friend Addie was Chinese.
She seemed to like it.
But it’s not one that people think of. When they think of The Nutcracker, they think of Sugar Plum Fairies and Clara, and the Rat King, and the Snow. I knew all of these weren’t feasible at my skill level, but you know what I mean.
My friend is an adult ballerina as well and did Nutcracker for the first time last year, landing Lilac and Snow. I was really hoping I would be good enough to get those rolls, and at auditions, a couple of the girls told me I was a shoe in. I guess it’s my fault for letting me get my hopes up. Reality is I’ve only done ballet for 3 years next month and only been on pointe for a year, which really hasn’t been a year with all the injuries, surgery, and improper shoes. I should have known I wouldn’t be developed enough in skill to be farther ahead than my easier class. I’m 26.
I’m 26. That’s another kinda difficult thing. Doing a roll with 13 year olds.
but I’ve done recital with 13 year olds.
Yeah, but I wasn’t the only adult.
It feels like being in the advanced class at my old studio, but being the only one not dancing in the advanced dance. As hard as I tried, I just wasn’t up to their level. I guess I wanted to prove something to myself. I wanted to prove that I can dance, that I am improving, that I am something.
Chinese was the roll I wasn’t sure I wanted to do if I got cast in it. I know anything lower would have been with students who were too young with which to be paired. But I figured if my friend had done it, maybe I could, too.
Then I started daydreaming; of feeling pretty on that stage in a beautiful tutu. Of being in a long enough part to make it worth my family paying money they don’t really have to spare to see me. Of the pride in my voice in telling people “I am in The Nutcracker” and how excited they would be, and they would come see me and see why I dance and how the production is beautiful.
I wanted to prove that I am good at ballet. That I’m not wasting my time doing this. That all this effort and pushing through is paying off. I want to prove how difficult this is. That I am capable of difficult things. That I’m not a pansy or a baby or weak.
I want to prove that I am a ballerina.
I won’t lie to you, I cried.
I sat on my couch, crocheting and watching dance moms and cried.
I cried because I failed myself. Because I’m not as good as I hoped I’d be. Because I don’t get to wear a tutu or feel pretty or prove to anyone anything. I cried because I’m not a part that makes my friends want to take pictures of me. I don’t get to be in a roll that leaves kids wide-eyed in wonder and want to sign up and “be just like her.” I cried because I really wanted to be in a role that wasn’t typical to me. I want to show that I am human and that I am more than what is surface and that I have something to offer this world. I cried because I wanted to be remembered, and to me this interpreted as just another time that I was overlooked even if I could fill a roll or had a lot to offer. (Even if this was the best roll for me to fill.) I cried because of the fear that no one would want to come now. That I’m not good enough to be worthy anyone’s time. Or that they would come and be disappointed. I cried because my ankle is still freakin’ hurt and I can’t do anything to improve my situation and I don’t know how long it’ll be like this. I cried because I’m 26 and I feel like I missed out and should be better than I am. That I should be better because I’m older, not because I’ve only been in ballet a quarter of the time most in my class have.
A lot of emotion rolled into those moments. I debated even doing The Nutcracker at all. Who was I kidding?
Then a very wise friend of mine told me some appropriately wise advice;
“Sleep on it sweetie.”
I put it out of my mind and asked her if she knew what rolls other friends of ours had gotten and if she was excited for this years turn out.
I did the whole, “fake it ’til you make it” bit not really certain if I would ever make it to the level I was faking it. But I guess it seemed like the right thing to do.
I put it at arms length and took a step back to evaluate the situation.

  • Which would be worse; being the roll I was cast for, or sitting in the audience while everyone else had fun?
  • Surely there is something to be learned from this
  • What about my babies, what would it say to them if I backed out?

So I thought about it.
I wanted to be something more mature, something beautiful. I wanted to be something that would show that I’m a ballerina. I wanted to be like my friend and have the blog-perfect Nutcracker experience that made everyone so proud. I wanted to be a roll that didn’t make people roll their eyes and not take me seriously.
But maybe this wasn’t the year for all of that.
Maybe this is the year that I have to learn to put all of that aside. Maybe this is the year that I learn something for myself; that it’s not about proving something to anyone else but me. That I don’t have to have these typical roles to inspire someone. That maybe the ones I’m to reach out to aren’t the once in the audience, but rather the ones backstage. What if I’m comparing my unique story to everyone else’s. What if the way that I am special is that I don’t fall in to the typical category of what you would expect, but rather am silent in my strength.
What if.
And what about that story I heard.
About the most requested extra in hollywood.
How they didn’t have any award, and no one really knew his name.
But the Director’s did, and they requested him. He was in high demand
He was in high demand, even though the public didn’t know him.
I decided I needed to be that guy.
So content in my roll and just happy to be there that I don’t have a second to waste on feeling sorry or guilty or sad.

I thought of Jenna, one of my Instep babies who is at my new studio now.
I found the cast list online this morning and looked for her name, uncertain if she even auditioned.
And there she was.
Jenna was in it, and how elated will she be if I’m in it, too?
Then I decided to look up my other friends roles, and found out one of my dearest dance friends–one of my dearest friend in general–got cast for three rather large roles without even auditioning. I was ecstatic for her, bursting in pride at how she was able to accomplish such a feat.
It crossed my thought for half a second that she accomplished everything I failed to and that I should probably be sad or bitter or resentful or whatever, but I wasn’t. she deserves this so hard.
I reevaluated.
I looked at reality
I have only been in ballet almost 3 years.
I have only been on pointe for “1 year.”
I have only been at this studio for a month and was cast in a part that requires pointe work.
Be real, your chaines and grande jete’s suck.

So, I decided that is what I will do.
I will work on these things I know I need improvement on and hope to do better next year.
Maybe if I work really hard, it’ll show.

It’s hard, being out on a stupid pointless injury that won’t seem to go away.
It’s hard, having to miss classes.
It’s hard, not knowing when I’m going to get sick.
It’s hard, not having the space I need to practice at home.
It’s hard.
And there are a million excuses.
But I just can’t let that be the final answer.

So I decided I’m going to team up with the one girl from our class that was actually excited about being Chinese and start an optimism party.
That we will make the most of this roll and be grateful to have it.
“Dance, dance like it’s the last, last night of your life.” Right?
If I died on December 22nd, I’d wish I had done it.
I’m gonna ham up this roll and be the best I can be.

We’ll see how this goes.

Pointe Shoe Fitting

Once upon a time I entered this contest and somehow actually won and thought it was a scam, but then it wasn’t.

(A little update from that post: Dianne had emailed me and asked if it would be better for me to go to the Austin store instead of the Dallas store, so I got to cut my travel time in half and see some of my dance friends in the process.)
So yesterday I took a couple friends and we trekked up to Austin.

 First we met up with my dear friend Leslie. I met her when I first started dancing at Instep Dance Studios. She was the Administrative Assistant, and actually the first person I spoke to there. (besides my friends who recommended Instep to me.) Leslie got married last year and she and her husband moved to Austin this summer. It was so good to see her.

From there we headed to Capezio. And let me tell you, I was nervous. I was so hopeful that this was what I needed to finally solve my pointe shoe problem, but so nervous that it would be another dead end. This wasn’t the first time I’d gone out of town for a pointe shoe fitting. This wasn’t the second time. And with this most recent ankle roll from my shoes, I was desperate. The people here locally can’t help me and I have to have pointe shoes to dance on, so what am I going to do?
Then the fact that I’m 26. Would they judge me or treat me different? Were they expecting a 13 year old? would they just kinda give up on me, thinking I should know better and have all the answers? that seems to be a theme in my life. Then I was nervous about the fact that I don’t have a dancer’s body. I’m doing all I can to tone up and slim down, and I’ve come a long way, but with all my stomach issues and freaking injuries keeping me from doing what I need to outside of dance to lose the inches (and just as I’m starting to see results…) It’s been a slow process. I didn’t want the fears in my head to be confirmed and the voices I hear tearing me apart to become human form. I just want to dance. I just want to feel alive.
I walk in and meet Amanda (I think was her name?) who lead me to Jordan, the lady who I believe is the manager. She was the one that Dianne had sent me to and the one who would be handling everything.
I sat down.
“What shoes do you currently wear?”
“Currently, Grishko 2007s. But they caused me to roll my ankle, so.”
“What did you like and not like about them?”
“I love the box. It’s perfect. Best thing I’ve ever put on. But they seem to twist on my feet. And I had asked the lady who was fitting me about that and she said it was fine. But it’s not. Hence the rolled ankle. My foot is really wide, but only at the toe here. It’s kinda narrow in the back. My friend called it a Phantom heel, I think?”
“Can I see your feet?”
“Sure.”
I take off my shoes and socks and show her my gimpy feet, telling her about my tiny toes and how the San Antonio guy told me he had seen worse, but still had a heck of a time fitting me. I told her how I liked my Russians, but they just hurt so badly that I couldn’t do anything. I told her how I liked my Gaynors, but they weren’t tapered enough.
She walked to the back and was gone for several minutes. She comes back with her arms loaded with pointe shoes.

And when I took this picture, she was in the back getting even more pointe shoes. I decided I wanted this place to be my closet. She came back with another arm full, sat on the floor, then asked, 
“What size shoe do you wear?”
“A 9 1/2.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“Man. You’re good.”
I tried on the Capezio Tiffany’s first, and I was amazed at how she was able to keep the different styles organized with so many shoes out. She explained how she could tell which shoe was which by the shape and color and other things. It was amazing. Side note, this is also when I managed to throw poop into the conversation. Really, don’t ask.
I tried on the Tiffany’s and liked them, but they shifted, which scared me. She explained the different reasons a shoe may shift, and the ways to figure out through, process of elimination, how to fix the issue. I was blown away.  
Then she brought out the Capezio Studios. She explained how they are a new shoe, and that typically you’re either made for this shoe and nothing else, or everything else but this shoe. She then explained how Capezio’s are typically made “broken in” but the studio’s weren’t. They had this crazy elastic instead of a drawstring and were definitely hard as rocks. Kind of like the Russians. She explained them as a Freed/Grishko hybrid. I named them “Frishko’s.” They weren’t bad, but they definitely weren’t my favorites. Weird, for sure, but a great concept. 
Then I tried on the Capezio Glisse’s. They felt alright, but I wasn’t sure if I preferred them over the Tiffany’s or not. 
She got a different size of the Tiffany’s so I could get a proper feel for which I preferred.  She asked how I felt in them and I told her they felt good, to which she responded, “These aren’t my favorite on you. I wouldn’t want you to have these shoes. Do you know why?” Of course, I didn’t. “Because I can see that your toes are crunching in your shoe. Not so much the right foot, but the left.
Side note: for some reason, my left big toe is crunchy. My right big toe will pointe like a dream, but my left crunches. I mentioned this to the San Antonio pointe shoe fitter, and they told me, “You’re going to have to get over it.” 
When she was able to identify that just by looking at me in the shoe for .2 seconds, I wanted to hug her, bless her, cry, and scream, “THANK YOU FOR ACTUALLY KNOWING WHAT THE HECK YOURE DOING AND TELLING ME WHAT I SHOULD AND SHOULDN’T FEEL BECAUSE I HAVE NO IDEA AND YOU ARE HELPING ME INSTEAD OF JUST GOING WITH WHAT I SAY. OH MY GOSH, THANK YOU.” all at the same time. It was a magical moment.
Then she had me try on the Capezio Aria’s. She told me if she were to look at my feet and know nothing about what I like and didn’t like, she would have put me in the Aria’s. She also told me that she didn’t think they would be right, but wanted to try them anyway. They were not my favorite, so we eliminated them and were down to the Tiffany’s or the Glisse’s.
“Here, try these on.”
“Which ones are these?”
“I’m not going to tell you. People can get caught up on a name, and I want you to throw that out the window and choose by what feels better.”
So I tried on the first one, went to the barre, stood in them, got a good feel. Then I put on the other ones, and stood at the barre. As soon as I did, I said, “These are the Tiffany’s, aren’t they?”
She asked how I could tell and I told her I could definitely feel the difference in the toe crunching in them. 
MIND BLOWN. MIND IS BLOWN.
Jordan was a definite game changer for my dance “career” if you want to call it that. I came in to this just after I turned 23 and was having to re-learn everything because the little experience I had was wrong. I had a supportive and wonderful studio, now I just needed someone open minded and kind hearted like that to fit me for pointe shoes. Everyone kept asking me, “How do they feel?” Without taking into consideration that I have no idea how they should feel and can’t really tell you. I wrote it off as just one of those things you have to figure out as you go, but man this is exhausting and I’m falling behind.
Jordan told me all about different toe pads and which ones are better for what different things. She showed me tricks to help the blister on my pinkie toe knuckle, and was even able to pick out leotards that had longer girths, despite their size listed, in 2.7 seconds. 
I was a very happy camper. 
I have always loved Capezio, and I am so happy to say they still haven’t disappointed me. I could forever sing their praises. It says a lot to me for such a big name company to care about the little people who will never make it big or go into a company or anything, and giving me just as much opportunity as anyone else. They treated me like a prima ballerina, and This is an experience I will never forget.

After we left Capezio, we went and found the graffiti park and took some pictures. (My friend Andie also does Irish Dance, so she brought her shoes to get some great pictures with.)
I do photography, and I shoot a lot of dancers, and one of the things that make the dancer feel the best is when a passerby comments on how cool that is, or a little kid is overheard saying, “Look, a pretty ballerina!” While we were there, I overheard people commenting, “Look at the ballerina!” and I caught junior high Homecoming kids putting me in the background of their pictures. (I was okay with it, of course.) And it was the first time I ever felt like a ballerina. So often I see myself as lesser than other dancers. I don’t feel like I measure up, I see how far behind I am, I see how far I have to go and all the places I fall short. But these people saw me standing there for the shot, and they saw a ballerina. They didn’t pick apart my technique, they didn’t say how I probably couldn’t do xyz, I didn’t hear one negative word. 
We moved up to a higher level, where there was flat ground and I did some pique turns. A girl walking by while I was turning said, “That was really pretty!” as she passed. I wanted to hug her. I wanted to hunt her down, get a picture with her, and hug her. Other people also walked by and commented on how cool it was or how good it looked. 
And at first, I didn’t think they were talking about me. Because all the other times I’ve heard it, they were talking about the dancer I was shooting. But this time, I was the dancer. 
I was the ballerina.
Rolled ankle and wonky shoes and all. 
I can’t explain how good that made me feel.
Thank you, kind strangers, for saying such nice things when you didn’t have to. It meant more than you’ll ever know.

We also found this really awesome ode to Nerdfighteria. The people we encountered in Austin definitely reduced world suck. And I was so glad to have a fellow Nerdfighter along with me. It was a pretty great moment.
(That’s just my feet while Kristin was shooting Andie. Because, why not?)
Then we met up with my dance friend, Annabelle. I met her at Instep when I first started dancing. She was one of the first people to speak to me there and got her pointe shoes a year before me. I took her senior pictures that November, and the rest is history. Now she is one of my main models when she’s in town and never disappoints. She’s also one of my dearest friends. I wish we could have stayed longer, but having the few hours with her did wonders for my soul.
Annabelle has this roommate she met last year whose name is Emily. We decided that we are clones (I mean, seriously, down to minute details) but had never met. Well, she got home right before we got back to their apartment, and so I got to meet her and OH MY GOSH IT WAS GREAT. I had called her when we first met up with Annabelle, but it went to voicemail. which is when I realized I had never heard her voice before. I left a ridiculous voicemail that was perfect. When Annabelle opened the door, we freaked out and hugged for practically forever. It was great. I felt like we had known each other for years.
That’s us, with Andie creepin’ like a pro.
Andie, Annabelle, Emily, and me. Such a happy hug of friends 🙂 
Then we drove back home that night, almost got hit by a mini cooper convertible with 3 guys in it. Those three guys ended up playing cat and mouse for the next 30 minutes til they exited, and it was hilarious.
Then we realized when we stopped at a gas station that I left my purse at Annabelle’s. We were an hour and a half home already and I wasn’t about to go back. I was thinking how Annabelle could use my card to pay for shipping to get it back to me, when I remembered that Leslie is coming down this week for our dance festival that is this weekend. (Win!) So we carried on and got home after 1am. 
Don’t mind how messy the foreground and background are, but this was all the FREE stuff I got from Capezio. Glisse pointe shoes, elastics, ribbons, (would have gotten toepads had I used the ones they had, but I didn’t, so that’s all good.) And that sweet Capezio cup! Any ballet dancer out there knows how much money that is that I just saved, but let me tell you, Capezio is a genius for it. As if they didn’t already have a lifetime advocate for their leotards that actually fit my long torso, they now have my infinite pointe shoe business. (unless there was something Jordan missed, which would surprise me. And which I would also just pay her another visit for her genius and get whatever shoes she thought were best.)
Words can not express my gratitude to Capezio. Seriously. To say this changed my life wouldn’t be an understatement. Now I’m just anxious for my ankle to heal so I can start wearing these puppies!
THANK YOU, CAPEZIO!!

ramblings

I was really hopeful that I would be able to make it through the entire class yesterday, but alas:

Stupid ankle.
It’s not that it was necessarily hurting, but about 10 minutes in to barre, it started doing this weird thing where I could feel it grinding or crunching or however you want to describe it.
I have noticed this in my foot before, and it makes me hecka nervous.
I just want to dance, but I also don’t want to screw myself over by pushing through when I shouldn’t, instead of resting it while I still have the luxury of resting it. Pushing it now could be detrimental come Nutcracker.
I’m just really frustrated, because I was looking forward to class yesterday.

(see sad face)

I don’t want to lose all the strength I’ve gained and I don’t want to fall behind everyone else. That’s what happened last year; I was out with an injury then an organ removal (Dramatic sounding, I know.) and missed all those conditioning classes.
I need those classes. They’re what I’ve been looking forward to.
I’m trying not to let myself get all anxious. Especially with everything going on in life right now, it’d be easy to get lost in it. But I don’t have the luxury of succumbing to that right now. I have to keep it together.
So, I spent the class watching the other girls; trying to glean any bit of knowledge I can to help me better grasp everything in hopes that I’ll be better equipped when I can dance again.
Maybe it’s a good thing.
I have the pointe shoe fitting tomorrow have I mentioned how nervous I am? so maybe it’s a good thing my ankle didn’t let me get back into my old shoes. I’m hopeful they’ll be able to finally show me a shoe that fits.
Gah, I’m freakin’ Cinderella over here. Except, instead of taking a shoe all around to find the girl it fits, we’re taking the girl all around to find the shoe that fits.
Anyway. Hopefully my foot heals up before too long. I’m glad to have such a great class at such a supportive studio.
Our insurance guy at work called and when I answered he told me about his 4-year-old daughter starting ballet classes at my same studio. It made me happy.

I am thankful to have the chance to get pictures at my new studio. I haven’t pressed it too much since I’m still trying to get a feel for the place, but I’ll take any opportunity I can get.
❤