Category: picture

Third Private Lesson

Because Abby is awesome, she squeezed in one more private lesson before these last two classes of mine before I leave Friday for Europe.

I had told her about my pirouette struggles, so she told me to make sure I had my pointe shoes with me.

Lillian was able to come, too, which made it really fun. Abby had us doing similar things simultaneously, then switch, which were cause of some really hilarious moments at times.

We alternated; one on the bosu, one on the exercise ball. We went through the normal kind of things on the bosu–what we worked on last time–to get really warmed up and reiterate the proper alignment. Most of the things on the exercise ball were rather difficult, mainly because the muscles it required for balance were very confused as to why they were being utilized. Once we got the hang of it, we were rockin’ and rollin’.

There was this one part where we used the exercise ball to help with stabilizing our arabesque. Abby had told us how she had worked with Alexis on this and she surprised her and lifted off the ball and stayed in this absolutely beautiful arabesque. This made me feel pressure. I have to keep working hard and keep improving and not fall behind.
When it got to be my turn at the exercise ball, Abby said I was looking really good. I was able to lift my leg off the ball and hold it there for a while. My left (I guess left? Whichever side you consider it…) was a little weird, but I’ve noticed I’ve been having trouble keeping square on that side and Abby pointed it out. It also felt different than the other side, I could feel that it wasn’t the same, so why couldn’t I fix it? The leg that’s up is the leg on the crooked back side. I could feel whatever it is pressing against each other. It didn’t necessarily hurt, but I could feel it. Maybe that is part of the issue? She was able to help me get a feel for how it should be and hopefully that will help.

We moved on with pointe to try and help me with my pirouettes. I could feel myself starting to panic on the inside in a way that happens whenever I can’t fully grasp a concept. It is one of the worst feelings I can think of, especially when I’m unable to communicate what I don’t understand about it. I don’t really know how to explain this, but I can remember it happening when Dad would try and help me with math. He would get frustrated and I would get frustrated and then I’d shut down and complexes developed.
I don’t want complexes to develop in ballet.
Abby began by explaining pirouettes–basic breakdown type stuff, making sure nothing was missed. I asked her about the spiral versus scoop methods of getting onto your box in a pirouette which got kind of confusing. I’ve seen both, and I think I’ve learned both, but I’m still so new in the knowledge of pirouettes that I don’t want to learn the least effective one and have to relearn something later. (does that make sense? Anyway.) She told me to not focus so much on what my foot is doing, instead to focus on your core and maintaining the proper position for turns rather than how your foot gets there.
This made me start to freak out on the inside. How would that help me? The last time I tried to just go for it, I rolled my ankle. I can’t afford that.
I kept quiet, and she kept explaining. Meanwhile, Lillian was trying to implement what she was saying. I missed part of it, falling inside myself and zoning out in my fear, but I managed to pull myself out and somehow Lillian doing these things out of the corner of my eye made something click with what Abby was saying. I thought of seeing Ileana with her beautiful balance and turns in class. I thought of how you could see how she maintained it. I thought of how I must look judging on how I feel when I turn and that connected into being what could cause everything else to fall apart.
Don’t think about what your foot is doing. Maintain proper alignment and you’ll turn.
She demonstrated further and it all seemed to settle in my head. I haven’t gotten to try a turn yet, but I feel like I have a better understanding of what it actually is that I’m trying to achieve. Keep that position, you can turn forever. I’m hoping to try it today.

She also stressed the importance of getting in the habit of rolling down out of releve. This is also something that isn’t solid in me yet and I want to develop the good habit of doing. I have to get the feel for it and build the muscles to do it. I have to get the muscle memory of it in my brain, make it be what is the comfortable thing to do rather than something that makes me nervous.

I noticed while working on my left foot that it felt different than my right. It gave me that frustrating feeling again. I needed to know why this was happening so I could figure out what to do about it. I know it’s not right, how do I fix it? What is not right about it? I mentioned it to Abby and she watched me. We connected that this is the foot that tends to balance on the far side of the box rather than the whole box, which makes me feel really nervous and unstable. My foot just does it. So I tried working with my foot to make it not do that. But why is this one different? Then I remembered.
Nerve damage.
I asked Abby if the nerve damage on the right side of my left knee could play into this at all.
That’s it.
It doesn’t affect anything else that I know of, but that little section of messed up nerves is causing certain muscles to not engage the way they need to like the other knee does. It’s why I feel that almost blank spot on my foot–where I know I should feel something working but feel nothing. It’s why I struggle on that side.
(STUPID CAR WRECK.
Dancing would be so much easier if it had never happened.
The whole situation is entirely too stressful. )
(Anyway.)

We also talked about en dedan turns en pointe, but thinking about it now I can’t remember specifics? Which probably isn’t good… I know we worked on the movement of going from fourth to passe like you would in a turn.

Anyway.
I’m hoping class will be good tonight. I’m not sure who is teaching so I’m not sure what really to expect. I guess we’ll see.
This week will be my last week of summer classes if I remember correctly. Not sure if they’re doing anything in the interim of July ending before fall classes officially start in August.

I’m hopeful that I can still improve.
That working hard produces results.
That this isn’t all there is for me.
That even though I’m older, I’m still learning.
That dreams are still possible.

(Ps. Here’s a picture of my feet.)

(A heck of an improvement from even last year. Woohoo!)

Last rehearsal before theatre week!

Yesterday was our last rehearsal in the downtown studio. The rest of them will officially be in the theatre and it doesn’t feel like this is even possible that by this time next week, Wizard of Oz will be a memory.

I don’t know if I’m ready for that.

(I am ready to be able to go to bed and not have the super buzzing-bee-cartoon-character-type music in my head all night, though, so there’s that.) (ps. that’s what the Winkie Guard Solo scene music sounds like.)

(anyway.)

We were supposed to run it twice, but were only able to run it full-through once.
I got to do the Crows one last time, as one of the girls who is usually there wasn’t. I’m not sure where she was, but the poor girl has been sick for a while and dancing through it so maybe that’s it. I just hope she’s feeling better, poor girl has been working her butt off for this show. Of all the girls I’d have to jump in for, she and one other would break my heart.

Before and after Crows I ran the first scene with the girls in hopes that we would be able to show Julie that we mean business and are working hard. They were really showing some great improvement and I was proud of them. I think the hardest part during these studio rehearsals is their struggle with distraction. There are so many people and movement and things going on that if you aren’t completely focused, you’re bound to mess up. It’s even happened to me. The front people can’t afford this.
Sadly, one of the front girls messed up so they both got switched in the scene. It was a tough lesson to learn, but it happened anyway. The girls that got moved forward will do the part well. They know it through and through and I think the bout of necessary confidence will be great for them.
Most everything else seemed to show great improvement.

During corrections, we got chewed because a lot of the girls weren’t paying attention. (not all, but enough.)
It’s no wonder those are the ones that don’t know what’s going on most of the time. It takes a toll on everyone.
It’s exhausting to have to be the one to hold up the group, and I wouldn’t be able to without the couple other girls that are very aware of what is going on. Knowing I can bounce things off them and we can come to a conclusion is what keeps this scene afloat. If they would just do confidently what they know, they would shine. But I understand it’s hard at that age, especially with so many people watching and it being such a risk.

I sent a few of the pictures to the company principals when I got home (even though I’m kinda not supposed to?) and got to talking with my friend Abby.
She said this:

I told her how there are times I just want to shake some of the girls and scream “SHE JUST SAID WHAT YOU’RE ASKING ME LITERALLY TEN SECONDS AGO PAY ATTENTION.” But that’s not allowed. I then mentioned how nice it was to hear it, too, because before when I was involved in dance or theatre, to do what I’m doing here was a guaranteed way to get yourself stuck as an understudy. Instead of seeing all your hard work and taking it into consideration that you’d be a good person to rely on and cast in the role in the first place, they saw you as a solid back up to have for if the leads flaked like they were prone to. (yet they always seemed to pull it together for the show. All glory, no work ethic.) It’s really nice to know that working hard to make sure things still run smoothly in case something happens isn’t going to get me permanently benched, but instead will help me in the long run.
She then said:

And this is when I melted into a puddle.
For the first time in a really, really long time I actually feel like I belong somewhere. That who I am is enough just as I am. That I’m not a failure or lacking or a disappointment, but instead a valuable asset. That hard work isn’t being ignored.
(Ps. I have really great friends that are there for me when I need it and quick to celebrate me when things go well. To have such people there for the highs as well as the lows is something I cherish. You people make the world go round.)

Yesterday. (ooey gooey feelys)

Yesterday was the first class I was ever able to do completely en pointe.

Now, I may have done this at Instep, but I don’t remember if I ever made it all the way through. Usually my toes would hurt so badly that I could never actually get through the steps I needed to. I remember it being very discouraging.

Yesterday was encouraging.
It was stability and compliments.
It was hope and sore feet and feeling like I was doing something right for once.
It was trying harder and doing more and pushing limits.

Yesterday was nothing special, but it was everything.

I found myself standing by myself at the smaller barre along the short wall, really taking in everything around me. These girls, all in the same place at the same barres they always stand at, pressing themselves harder than normal, focusing on their technique. Ms. Lori, leading us along in this endeavor to become our best. She kept saying things like, “Don’t let this get to your head, but people are watching this class.” and I would laugh inside that she opened with the preface she did, because out of this whole class, maybe one may let it go to her head, but maybe not. Mostly these girls are fueled by hope and ambition, striving to be their best and oblivious to the fact that they’re already better than the next level above them for the most part. One of the girls said, “I know why. It’s because you’re our teacher.”
I couldn’t have said it better.

And I stood back (metaphor) and for the first time, I saw these girls as competition.
They aren’t just the “cute little ones” anymore. These girls are biting at my heels, some surpassing me. They will get roles I will probably never be able to get. Maybe simply because I am too old, but maybe because they’re better.
These girls are dedicated. You tell them to jump and they leap. You tell them to try and they succeed.
No one has let them in on the secret the world is keeping that you’re supposed to be afraid. And honestly, I hope no one ever does. These girls are capable of so much. The world is theirs for the taking, and they’re taking it.
And honestly, I can’t wait to see where they go. I’m excited to see what the next audition holds for them. We have six Clara’s in their class, easy, if not more. They’re so good. And the last thing in their head is to let it make them proud.
I’m literally brought to tears at the thought of it. At the thought that I get to be a part of this class. That this doesn’t just end when we finish with IV’s. That I get to go with these girls on to the V’s class. It challenges me to work hard so I can keep pace with them, and encourages me that if they can do it I can, too. They may think I’m there to encourage them, but really they’re encouraging me.

We got our recital costumes yesterday. I wish I would have taken a picture of the Polaroid, because it’s perfect. The colors are absolutely stunning and the way it flows on stage takes your breathe away. It brought Ms. Lori to tears when we ran the piece, and you could see the girls take pride in themselves as they danced. (not the negative, head-hawty pride, but the kind that brings a feeling of adrenaline-inducing accomplishment.) They all loved the head pieces, too, which made me feel really good.
They smile more. The ones that were in their shell at the start of the year are opening up, and the “popular” girls are accepting of everyone. Gah, I love it.

Ms. Munro came in at one point and was really impressed with what she saw. She even said, in hushed tones, “I really think this is the best dance of the whole recital.”
What an honor to get to be a part of something so special.

Allison took this of my feet after class.

It’s nice to see that you’ve improved. That all your work wasn’t for nothing. That you’re not as bad as your brain would have you believe. I still have a long way to go, but I’ll get there. If I can get here, I’ll get there.

This is me with Nina. One of my many babies in the class. She calls me Mom 🙂
This year has literally been the best. And it’s not over yet.

Push the limits.

Yesterday’s class started off rough but ended on a high note.

I’m nowhere near where I want to be in my training, and I know I have to work hard to get there. But yesterday it felt like all my flaws were screaming out as Ms. Lori and Ms. Munro were watching. I was embarrassed and unsure of what the problem was–is it something I need to work through, or is something wrong with me? Both are high probabilities–and had to take a mental moment to pull myself together so they wouldn’t see my struggle.
There’s no time for that.
You have to make the split second decision. Are you going to fight through? Or are you going to tap out and not know your full limits?
How will you improve if you don’t push the limits?

So even though I was shaking and didn’t know why, even though I felt I couldn’t breathe, even though my head felt really weird, I kept going.
I pushed myself through shaking legs and frazzled emotions and kept going.
I have to be better. I have to try harder.
I can’t wimp out.

It wasn’t perfect. There were brief moments where I didn’t push it–mostly out of fear that I’d hurt myself or something, and I had already proven I could do what was being asked, which was a big thing for me as I was mostly proving it to myself–but I at least tried it. I didn’t wimp out. I didn’t make excuses. I faced that mirror and I did what I could and I dusted off the words my head was telling me.
There’s nothing I can do about it at this moment.
It won’t always be this way.
please don’t let me be lying to myself.

Despite it all, I finally felt a bit of improvement with pointe. I felt more comfortable in my shoes. I felt a smidge more confident. I felt like maybe this will be okay and I’ll keep working hard and get to where I want to be. That all is not lost. Maybe I’ve finally broken through that barrier of fear that’s been holding me back.
If you’re afraid, that’s when you’ll get hurt. You have to trust yourself and go confidently towards what you want. If you fall or fail, you get back up and learn from it. Failure shouldn’t define you, it should guide you.

Class carried on.
We worked on recital, and I felt myself soaring through bits I had previously been nervous about.
I felt myself improving.

We moved into the bigger studio when the other class was done and ran it as they were all still leaving.
Their teacher–a noted strict one who doesn’t take funny business–stayed and watched us.
The pressure was on. Most of the girls didn’t feel it because most are unknowing of his expectations. I wasn’t afraid, just aware. I did my best. I focused as hard as I could. I counted and followed and lead and everything else.
We finished.
He applauded.
He complimented our teacher, said it’s looking good.
He told us to imagine how good it would look if we pointed our feet.
Then.
He complimented us.
I get back to the side we start on before running it again and look at the other V and said, “Did you hear that? Brian just complimented us. And we had a silent freak out together because that never happens.
We ran it again, we added in the new bit and brainstormed how we would end it. Ms. Munro was there and she seemed really pleased with the dance. Ms. Lori is the sweetest most humble lady ever.
Toyed with the idea of adding more music to the dance since we cut out the into to the first bit, but it’s a bit long already, but that’s okay.
I’m so happy.
I love this dance.

I want to work harder, but then I wake up in the morning to sore ankles and realize I’m probably doing all I can at the moment and shouldn’t push it too hard. Time will show this is worth it.

After class