Minor Improvements That Must be Fought For

Sometimes breakthroughs are exceptional. A moment of clarity and suddenly you are doing something you've never dreamed of.
But, let's face it, mostly you get tiny imperceptible improvements over the course of three solid months of work and the final product can really only justifiably be called "less bad than it was".
Take this petite allegro combination that the students have all come to dread. It's not even complicated, it's just glissades, jetés, and assemblés. But it's quick and it changes directions halfway through and pretty much everyone hates it. Last night, for the first time since we've been working on it (ages! Ages have been put in to this damn thing!) I watched myself in the mirror and felt like it wasn't pitiably terrible, just kind of a wreck. There was, perhaps, a slight bounce in my proverbial bungee. PERHAPS.

Also new: apparently the studio where I take ballet has been voted "best yoga studio" in the city. Which is interesting, I must say, because they don't actually offer any yoga classes. We all think they should accept the award and put it on the front desk just to mess with people.

I'd Like to Thank the Little People. Oh Crap, Did I Already Use That Joke Title?

More compliments? They had better watch out or I might start, I dunno, believing them or something.
After mixed-level class tonight my teacher assured me that I had "improved dramatically".
Of course, when I started taking class a year and a half ago I could barely make it through pliés, so YES, there has been dramatic improvement. It just never feels like it when you are the only person in a room full of students that is doing a pirouette and everyone else is doing the thing they are actually supposed to be doing.
For example, during petite allegro tonight I was having one of those "I totally can't follow what the music is doing so I am just going to have to make it up as I go" moments. I have a lot of those moments. I came away from class with this thoroughly stuck in my head:

What can I say, Dad played me a lot of 60's music when I was a kid.

Alliterative Reflections After Class

You know you're an adult ballet student/arthritic old lady when... you find yourself saying "you know what I'd really like for an anniversary present, honey? Compression socks"

After class last night a couple of people told me that I had improved a lot in the last couple of months. One of the compliment fairies (like tooth fairies? Only they bring you compliments instead of taking teeth?) was our perpetually perfect, pretty, and perky (puhpuhpuhpuh) teenager who always kicks all our old asses out there on the floor. It was nice but seemed really strange. I always feel a bit like the class I am in is the hardest class I have ever taken, you know? Like... maybe I'm getting worse. Or more tired. Or for some reason I just haven't got the mojo working this time. But then the next class comes along and I feel the EXACT SAME WAY. I think the rush of endorphins dulls your memory.