Four Classes!

I took four classes last week! It was... whew! It was intense. On the second consecutive day I was definitely feeling it. I'm starting to gain back some of the strength I lost over the past few months, though, and that is nice. Of course, now my stupid pointe shoes are getting squodgy. Wait, have I entered the unending cycle? You wear these things until they are finally comfortable and then POW! They die. Super awesome.
My mom once apologized for not putting me in ballet as a kid. But no, really, it's okay. For one thing I was shy and had body image issues and already ate myself up about my imperfections. And for another thing... we never really had money, you know? Like... ever. And a serious teenage student can blow through a pair of shoes in a week, easy. I am pretty sure we would have been selling plasma to keep shoes on my feet.
Anyway.
I haven't decided yet if I am going to try four classes this week or not. On the one hand I could use all the help I can get, and free classes are nothing to sneeze at. On the other hand... well. I am lazy. I mean, come on. I have important things to do at home. Like watch kitten cams and ignore the ever-expanding pile of dishes in the sink...
You know. Important stuff.

The Apathy Patrol

So I was dreading going away for a long time because I knew that when I came back home and once again faced going to class twice a week I would have to deal with my old enemy: complete apathy. It's just that... when I am dancing a lot then I want to dance a lot. But if I'm not? Then... I would just rather sit at home and eat smarties and watch Mythbusters. When I get back in to it it will be fine, but until then I know that it's going to be hard, and hurt, and make me all sweaty, and I will probably get a migraine afterward. And I'll  have to sit around with ice packs all over my body when I get home. And I have to drive ten miles to the studio through rush hour/Christmas shopping traffic and/or take the train through the ghetto in the dark. And. And. And. The point is that my brain is telling me it would rather just stay home if it's going to be so much trouble to go to class.
But. Tonight I am back home (may be gone again next week, but only time will tell) and, like a good girl, I went to class. That would be my level 3 class, by the way. In case you were wondering how badass I am. I answer is: totally. I am totally badass.
Class... kicked my butt. Pretty much. I can definitely feel the fact that I didn't do anything for three weeks. Well, that's not true. I shoveled snow. Was it hard work? Yes. Did it help me remain in ballet-condition? Not even a little bit.
I had to learn how to stand again, and where my feet are supposed to go. And then I flailed around badly for a while while we attempted combinations that I had never seen before. Also, apparently, while I was away they started some new stuff. So I just had to fake it through those parts. HA. Did I mention how badass I am? Because it's a lot. It did put me in mind, though, of that time in elementary school when I was out sick while they taught the whole class the multiplication table and then when I got back no one noticed and so I spent the next two years trying to learn how to multiply and divide ALL BY MY SELF. Ahem. But, you know, with enveloppe* at the barre instead of actually important stuff.
Not that I am bitter or anything.

*I'm sure enveloppe should have an accent mark in there somewhere. But I'll be darned if I can actually find it online.

Self-Motivation for Dummies

In all honesty I've been having a terrible time self-motivating this week. It's felt like the longest week in recent memory, and now that I think about it, it's probably almost two full weeks since I went to class. I'm claiming emotional exhaustion, PMS, and snow. Yes, it's snowing. I live in central California, which maybe hails briefly once or twice a year, but snow (especially vast accumulations of snow) is totally beyond my realm of experience. But here in the woods, oh yes, it snows. I have also been stymied in my attempt to occupy time by sewing stuffed bunnies for the babies in the family this xmas (six!) by a sewing machine that is on the fritz. I brought dance slippers with me, and even wrote myself a little list of things to work on in my spare time. Pirouettes, headlines, double frappes... but I just haven't worked myself up to it much. Not that the time isn't available, just that I feel like folding in to a ball when the opportunity presents itself.
*sigh*

Self-motivation...

So terrible. Hopefully posting this will make me feel so guilty that I will actually get on with it.

Back In The Saddle

Getting back to ballet after approximately two whole weeks was great and also exhausting. My knees are holding out better than I thought, mostly because I make the shallowest little pliés on the planet. We have started some new stuff, including this sort of graceful swooping preparation for rond de jambe, which I am almost getting but it is taking some time. I feel a very definite sense of progressing, though, and that is lovely!

The hardest part, for me, is getting out there. I usually have a lot of fun while I am there, but the biggest problem for me, as an adult, is just overcoming my natural laziness and desire to sit around in front of the computer all night. I mean, I can find lots of ways to waste time. I am darn near an expert at procrastination and poodle-ing around. Anyway, after a break there is always a strong pull back towards home. The siren song of my couch. And I think "hmm... I sure could use to sit here and watch another episode of Start Trek TNG..." but NO. I could really use to go to class and dance.

***

Part one in an occasional series: ballet paintings that aren't Degas (not that I have anything against Degas. But, boy howdy is his work over-exposed. I have an umbrella and matching dance bag covered in Degas, and that is great, but let's check out some other stuff, too.)

"The Violet Butterfly" by John Garth c. 1930s

I love the colors in this one.