Size 2 feet clad in pink leather totter to ‘Classical Music for Baby Ballet’.
Five, six, seven, eight.
Fifth position, arms in port de bras, Épaulement to the right.
I can’t remember when dance wasn’t a huge part of my life.
But I also can’t remember a day where i don’t frequently trip over my own ankles. Absurdly clumsy even by pedestrian standards, what more a dancer?
Be it within the four walls of a dance studio, or three panels of black theatre curtains, there have been days like this – days when I penche at the barre only to come face to face with everything I’m told I’m not; when I put on my pointe shoes and wind up only with broken toenails and blisters full of disappointment.
Yet this is the place that I have all the more reason to thank. Between the mirrors and curtains is where I have come to realize that the world is made out of sand. It can slip through your fingers and crumble so easily, but one must never be afraid to grab a hold of it, redefine it and build something out of the concrete, glass and paint it can constitute.
It is a vacuum of ideas and movement coming together, creating a space to express, to share, to escape from the worries of the outside world.
It is a space that has taught me that it is not enough to just express oneself. I have to grow and explore and take risks and challenge myself. Cheesy it may be, but this recognition has crafted this art as one where I am utterly satisfied in – one imbued with mental strength, physical endurance, passion, and creativity.