Grand Plié in First

From this "article" (term used loosely) of awkward vintage exercises:

Well, this is Terrifying...

I can't get this video to embed properly, but I will link y'all to it, anyway.

Click here for mega-super-scary-ballerina times.

DOLLIES!

One of my many (many MANY) great loves is paper dolls. I was poodling around online reading an article on the subject when I came across these: antique Marie Taglioni paper dolls.

Here's the one in the article.

And here is a link to many more fabulous costumes, as well as back story type stuff. It's pretty great.

Hyperbole and a Half

I'm posting this because it is tangentially related to RP (clinical depression is a symptom of rheumatism, no one knows why but there is probably some genome craziness involved. I am currently medicated to the hilt, which became necessary when my pain meds made me manic, but I have been medicated previously, as well) and because I think it's important enough to share with you. Everyone should read this post by Allie of Hyperbole and a Half, especially if you have never experienced clinical depression. After my very worst bout with what is slightly-chronic depression the only explanation I could come up with is this:
Happiness and sadness are flip sides of the same coin. Depression is like paying with a $20 bill, and not getting any change.
Click the image below to read Allie's take on it:

Edward Gorey

I was a little surprised that this morning's Google doodle was in honor of Edward Gorey's birthday. I thought I was the only one who knew (not because I am a weird super-fan, but because I happen to be using an Edward Gorey wall calendar that marks the day)!
Anyhow, if you are not familiar with his work you ought to be. Aside from having one of the most recognizable (and wonderful) styles of illustration in the past fifty years he was also a huge ballet fan and did a lot of work for the New York City ballet as well as several other ballet-themed projects. Go read the Gilded Bat, a treasure for ballet students and people who know just enough French to get themselves in trouble.
He was also a cat lover, and you will rarely see a picture of him at home without at least one cat sitting on him or nuzzling. That is my kind of guy.

Rheumatic Supa-Hoe, Nahmeean Biatch?

I ran the blog through gizoogle because I couldn't resist the temptation. I'm utterly fascinated by what I would sound like if I was writing about ballet and rheumatism through the veil of gangster rap. For one, the blog is now named "Rheumatic Supa-Hoe" which is fantastic. My favorite bit so far is "Yo Ass know dat hyped paintin of Lady Macbeth bustin a chronic dress, biatch?" but I have to admit a certain fondness for "I be frontin cheezy-ass exhaustion, PMS, n' snow, nahmeean, biatch?"

I Don't Want To Become An Aggregate Blog Or Anything, But...

Crazy pointe shoe shaped coffin.

I don't think I have ever been more certain that I want to be cremated...

Pretty as a Peacock

So I found this amazing tutu picture and I had to share it. It's a classical platter tutu but instead of (or in addition to) a decorative plate over the net skirt it is covered in beautiful peacock feathers. The colors here are just amazing. Check this out, guys:

Okay, but I found it on Pinterest and it had been pinned twelve million times and linked from other people's links and blogs and tumblrs, so I don't really know where it came from. The farthest back I can follow it is this site. Anyway, if anyone knows who the image belongs to please tell me as I am happy to spread the lovin' all around. And if you own it and you are super pissed that I have it up just let me know and I will take it down. But, seriously? It's all over the place, dudes, so good luck with that.
(PS: no really, I am kidding, if it's yours and you object just drop me a line, 'kay? I might talk all big and badass but I am a total smush bucket, yeah?)

Ballet Riot!

Oh my goodness!
You should read this article, it isn't very long and there is a video! With kind of not very good costumes! Anyway, I think it's interesting that the same music was considered awful while being danced and revolutionary and brilliant when the dancers were removed from the equation. Also, did you know that Stravinski hated the Rite Of Spring bit in Fantasia? I can't say it's my favorite part, but that is mostly because the 1950s idea of dinosaurs is all blocky and brown. Like boxy T-rex battling a big lumpy stegosaurus! RAR!

Some Of You Will Think This Post Is Creepy

Okay. So when I decided that I needed to take ballet lessons or I would die inside I had to cut a certain amount of chaff from my budget. Especially because last year I had a real job, and now I quotey-quote "work from home" which is sort of like saying "I am unemployed" only I have to feel guilty about sleeping in. Anyways. That $500 I spent on shoes last year was not going to be repeated this year (for the record, though, I got some REALLY AWESOME shoes last year) and the ridiculously expensive dolls were just going to have to wait.
Okay, okay, I admit it. There. Are you happy now? I admit it freely. I am a dolly addict. I don't mean creepy porcelain dolls or collector barbies or anything else that accrues any sort of value over the years. I mean gorgeous and stupidly expensive resin ball jointed dolls from Asia. If you aren't already familiar with them, you need to go look at this site. You will have a heart attack. Especially when you look at the prices and realize that those $600 dolls are BASE prices. Hair, eyes, and wardrobe sold separately. *Siiiiiiiiiigh* (It's not as silly as it sounds, I actually earn a pretty significant percentage of my living by making and selling teeny tiny 1/6 scale corsets and underwear. No, I am not joking.)
Anyway, like I said, ballet is expensive. So, sorry Too and Bee-A, but you will have to wait.
And just as I had finally made this decision and was feeling very secure about it?
I discovered these:

Do you hear that sound? It's the sound of my soul crying.

That's right, kids. Those are specially made pointed feet. For those ridiculously expensive dollies. So that they can wear Intensely Adorable pointe shoes. Just go and look at this picture and tell me that they aren't awesome.

Well, never mind, because I won't believe you anyway. Ballet. Shoes. Dolls. Spending money I don't have. My buttons. Consider them pushed.

Bloggity Blog Bloggin'

I'd like to take a little moment here to thank all the wonderful ballet blogs that have added Rheumatic Princess to their blogrolls. If you haven't yet, make sure you check out Adult Beginner, 4Dancers, Barre Barre Black Sheep, and Leotards and the Buns in Them.
Also, if you know of any others that I have missed, or if you own one that I didn't mention, let me know! I find it all exciting and lovely, really. And a little embarrassing! But also really cool! Thanks, guys!

Edited to add: Here is another! Thank you, Ballet You Say?

Thoughts at 2 AM

A few days ago over at the Adult Beginner blog (which you should read!) there was a post that has inspired a pretty interesting conversation in the comments.
I, also, get a twinge of sadness when I think back about how I totally missed the dancing boat when I was young and healthy. I can understand, intellectually, why I didn't study ballet as a child, but my heart wishes it was different. Also, I started ballet ten years ago! When I was younger and hardier and didn't have rheumatoid freakin' arthritis that floors me so effin' bad! I mean, what is my excuse? Why did I stop? What did I do in the last ten years that I couldn't have done better and stronger and happier if I had been dancing? It feels like such a waste.
There is also a comment from another rheumy, who explicitly states pointe as a goal. I know that I shouldn't feel weird about admitting it, but pointe is absolutely a goal for me. I don't need to be a frolicking ballerina, I just want to try it out. I want to cross it off my bucket list. If I give it a shot and decide it is sucky and painful and I feel no connection with it, no big deal. At least I gave it a try. But I hate to think of spending the rest of my life wondering why I never tried at all.

YouTube Has Failed Me

I cannot for the life of me find a youtube video that demonstrates waltz steps like the ones I have been struggling with the last three weeks. I can find super pro choreographed performances and I can find people sort of dancy-walking (up, up, plie, up, up, plie) but that is what we were doing in pre-ballet! The closest I can find are these 12 year olds kicking my ass serious style. Also, promenades! We just started promenades this week! They are awesome! Everything is awesome when you are me, I guess.
ALSO: Check this dude out. He is totally doing a pas de bourree. Dudes on the street! You are doing ballet!

The Art of Distraction

I was browsing through neatorama.com when I came upon a link to this story. It's about a guy with rheumatoid arthritis so advanced that he has to type his novels with a chopstick. I couldn't even get through it. I just skimmed. I am sure it is supposed to sound like an inspiring triumph, but to me it is utterly terrifying. I already know my time may be more than a bit limited. It's why I quit my retail job and took up dancing again. If I only have five years (ten years, two years, six months...) to live the way I do, then I will be damned if I am living it not dancing and stuck behind the wrap desk at a craft store.

I just try to distract myself. So I was thinking tonight, as I drove home from class, about the myriad ways ballet is a lot like sex.
You work up a sweat and get out of breath
You might think that make up will help, but you will just sweat it off anyway
If you haven't done it for a long time you are worried you'll be rubbish at it
Sometimes, no matter how much you like it, you just wish it was over
It's a little hard to pee afterward (TMI but you know it's true)
If the people you usually do it with aren't there you feel a little awkward
If you only do it once a week it's still better than not doing it at all.
the list could go on!

You Are Not So Bad Off

brazilian ballet school teaching the blind 

Very cool little video.

I was just thinking about how I hurt right now to the point that I want to call it stupid. Like... I stupid hurt right now. Like it's an emphasizing word*. But now that I've watched that I think I will just pretend I am not as shallow and self centered as I actually am and just say that we finally did more turning pas de bourrée and it was much less awful this time. We also did more of the crazy waltzing and hey, at least it almost made sense. Just almost, though.



*I know it has a name but I asked my husband (who has an English degree) and he was like "I dunno, yo" and if he doesn't know then what hope do I have (I have a stinkin' fashion degree)?