Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Loving What I Do



It’s amazing how something that can seem so insignificant to most people can be so important to others. There will always be something that means a lot in your life, even if other people find it pointless. Something that lets you escape from all your troubles and that relaxes you, or even something you like a lot and you couldn’t live without. In some cases it might be music, for other people maybe art, reading or sports; for me it is ballet.  
People around me are bored of hearing me talk about my dancing. “That’s the only thing you do! You don’t have time for anything else!” They tell me. Maybe it is true, but at least I love what I do. I simply can’t picture my life without ballet. It is incredible to know that every day after school I will always go to that special place where I feel loved no matter what, unlike school. School is full of insecurities and troubles, but the best way to forget about the bad day I always have is dancing; letting it all out. A place where you can certainly find fake friends is school, also. But in my ballet community we are all friends, there is no jealousy or lies, or things that can break us apart. We are all like sisters.
            There are times when I think about quitting ballet. The truth is, that I don’t have time to do the things my friends, and girls my age do. When my friends invite me to the mall, I have practice. When they invite me to a sleepover, I have more practice. On the day of my birthday, I have a competition and have to spend the whole day in a cold theater. But after you have experienced so much like me, you notice that waiting backstage for your turn is one of the best feelings because after you step on that stage you feel like if the whole world was yours. When you’re dancing on the stage, you are the center of attention and everything will turn out right if you give your best, and smile.
            I looked around the huge backstage. It was very dark, but as I peeked to watch Anna dancing, I could see the bright lights, reflecting on her face and beautiful blue tutu. We all had the same tutu, since we were all dancing “Paquita”. Our big group of sisters was once again dressed the same. We had just finished dancing the Paquita Pa De Deux, and I had some time before my turn to dance my solo, “Paquita Wedding”. I had felt my legs trembling a little, while dancing the Pa De Deux and I knew it was because my time to dance alone was approaching.    
            My toes were hurting incredibly too much from standing on my point shoes. I knew how the audience would think, “Wow their feet look so pretty with those shoes!” but they didn’t really know how it hurt. That’s what people normally think about ballet, that it is so easy to move your arms and lift your legs, but they don’t know the pain and the effort it takes to really dance and enjoy. My point shoes were not working as they should, they were too loose around my ankle and the elastic kept failing and falling off my ankle. Luckily it hadn’t fallen off when I was dancing on stage, or my teachers would have killed me. I was sweating an awful lot, too, and I hoped my makeup hadn’t run.
            It wasn’t the first time I would dance a solo, I was actually sort of used to it; but it was the choreography that had me nervous. I knew exactly what I would do when I stood up on that stage, but the repertory had to be done with such cleanness, precision, and so delicately, that it had me scared to death. I could hear Keni’s music now and it was my turn to dance after her. So I stood up from the chair I had been sitting on, and walked towards the black curtain I had been assigned.
Two of my teachers were standing there, they always stayed around to “give us luck”... or maybe pressure. But I really appreciated their effort to make us look great after a year of hard and excruciating work. They always made a fantastic job showing off their abilities to make our yearly presentations awesome. My turn to dance was less than a minute away, and I made the Sign of the Cross so everything would turn out fine. “Enjoy it, and dance like you always do,” my teacher told me, smiling.
            I heard Keni’s music ending, and the sound of my fragile melody starting. I took a deep breath and smiled in anticipation before taking my first steps towards the stage. I did my perfect balance and ran delicately across the wooden floor. I could feel the audience staring at me, millions of eyes gazing, unmoving. The bright lights shone at my face and I smiled joyfully as the rest of the melody continued playing, and I continued dancing to its classical, delicate beat.
            It is very easy to criticize dancers who usually don’t have time to do other things than just practice their choreographies over and over again. But no one really knows, except for other dancers obviously, the sacrifice that dancing takes. We lose time with friends and family, parties, going out, days, weeks, or even months practicing. We do our best everyday to progress on our moves. But people don’t notice, they only know that we dance up on a stage with lights and dresses. They don’t know that inside every dancer there is someone who wants to reach their dream.        

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