Wednesday, June 10, 2015

Wherein I Complain a Lot

So. How's the ol' dance world going? Over here I've just been overwhelmed and stressed out for a few solid months, but my part in the recital preparation is complete, so I feel a little lighter emotionally. Of course... now the people I have turned it over to are doing strange things like sewing hot pink trim on to my carefully constructed flame orange dress and trimming meticulously created white skirts in wrinkly grey ribbons... but you just have to learn to let it go. I guess.
I can damn near see the whole floor in my sewing room, now! So many bedraggled old tutus have finally left my presence. It's sublime.
While struggling through this year's miasma of sewing, design, and actual dancing, I stopped attending my regular pointe classes. It was just too much to deal with all at once. I have decided, I think, that I just can't do two and a half solid hours of intense cardio. It's exhausting, and not in a good way. There are not enough spoons in my proverbial drawer. There is a problem, though. I mean aside from the feeling of defeat at not being able to do this incredible thing I busted my ass to achieve. I know I am the first person in the entire history of the world to say this but... I am pretty sure my poor feet would feel 100% less awful right now if I was taking pointe again. Isn't that ridiculous? But it's true! My arches aren't getting stretched the right way, my muscles aren't as strong so they don't support me as well. The whole thing is infuriating, to be honest. I WANT to do pointe. I ENJOY it (for some reason?). But it also makes me feel better. Dancing, in general, helps my pain levels and joint mobility so much. I never notice how much until I don't do it for a while.

In other dance related news: I have just discovered these crazy floating Russian dalek dancers, and while they are the least exciting dance troupe you have ever seen they are mesmerizing and amazing and put one in mind of beautifully creepy automata like the Schloss Hellbrunn mechanical theater. I imagine there are lots of interesting steampunk possibilities, here. Also, I want to know how they do that, because I totes want to pull off that little party trick:
skip ahead to about 1:30 to check that madness at the door.

Tuesday, June 2, 2015

I don't even

Almost without question within the next few years my husband and I will have to move and settle in an obnoxious suburb that neither of us is particularly excited about. A family thing, we don't have a lot of say in it. Unless we win the lottery, I guess.
Anyway. We were discussing it last week, after I had just walked in the door from class and was sweaty and disheveled. The husband mentioned how annoying and inconvenient it would be, commuting from the aforementioned suburb to his job, at least a 45 minute drive even when there isn't any commute traffic. And he said this: "but you could just take your ballet classes at the community college".
I hardly even knew what to say! I am pretty sure that any dancers reading this immediately understand the horror I felt. Are you KIDDING me? You don't give up reading because you moved next door to a movie theater!