Sweekkk, creek, thuddthudthud
Floor crackles and squeaks under my toes.
Tossing pointe shoes.
Grabbing out barres.
The very first combination of every class.
'To bend' is the translation; and we have all bent to be here.
Concerts, sleepovers, dinners, and parties are being skipped.
Homework is waiting for us.
Our phones are abandoned and our mouths are silent.
We bend our knees together.
As the class continues, we work through each aspect of our bodies simincreaseing in speed.
"Allign your hips and rib cage!"
"Let go of the barre [in a balence] sometime today!"
"Elongate your spine"
We move from bare to center
The bares are moved back to the wall
Water is quickly chugged
And we continue.
We continue to sweat and stretch.
We extend ourselves emotionally
Giving grace to the girl who, time-after-time, keeps crashing into someone else.
Pouring our spare time into choreography, rehearsal videos, and making notes
Sewing pointe shoes
Rehearsal after rehearsal after rehearsal.
This show was a wonderful experience to be apart of. I learned more about dance and myself then I thought possible. Sweat poured out of my body, yet my heart was hydrated with joy of movement.
The show was a blast.
We made it through. (somehow)
I wrote my thank you cards and bought my gifts.
We said goodbye to beloved teachers- women who have grown me and challenged me in countless ways. I have been influenced and inspired, and I sit here all choked up thinking about them.
And I stood at the barre after the show, feeling my sorreee muscles, I inhaled.
I cracked my neck.
Clunked my pointe shoes.
Ploped my water bottle down.
And I realized that is, all of it, is home.
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