Dance Weekend

The only thing that comes to my mind at present is ballet.  Lately, my hair has been in a bun more often than not.  When I let it down, it settles into a large wave at the nape of my neck.  This is where I usually tie it with a rubber band before winding it up and securing it with bobby pins. 

This last weekend was ballet weekend.  Saturday, I tried out Ballet Academy East (BAE).  I entered the second floor studio to find little nypmhs running around in hunter green and burgundy leotards (there is a dress code based on level and age, the youngest wear hunter green).  BAE is a training ground for the New York City Ballet (NYCB).  Pictures of alumni, now members of NYCB, hang on the walls.  Lanky teen agers in black leotards and pink tights, some future members of NYCB, were rehearsing Swan Lake.  This place had the same energy I love in all dance studios.  Music and movement.  Dedication to art.  But it felt sterile, too Upper East Side-ish

So I spent Sunday afternoon at Dance New Amsterdam, which is having free class week for members and new customers.  I'm a member, and I'm taking full advantage.  I started with floor barre, to work my turnout.  Then intermediate class (I'm moving up).  DNA, along with Ballet Arts at City Center, have become my home away from home.  They both have that lived in feeling of old studios: grunge left by the blood and sweat of past dancers.  And they both have showers with great water pressure, a god send during the Fire Hydrant Emergency.

Here's the progress.  I've just worked through my first pair of pointe shoes since childhood.  I've started doing pirouettes en pointe again.  My penche (standing split) is nearly a full penche (full split).  I did my first double pique turn a few weeks ago.  My chaine turns are quicker and more accurate.  But my wobbly adagio needs work.  A lot of work.   

Why am I doing this?  I may never perform again.  Yet, when one is drawn purely, simply, and without intervening thoughts to "something", one must act.  To do otherwise would be a waste.  Especially when that "something" brings such joy, as dancing does to me.