Let’s face it, being corrected is basically being told that you are wrong and nobody likes that… right? It’s amazing how everything changes in ballet class. This week I had five ballet classes, including back to back classes on Saturday. At the end of the week, my armpits are sore… what’s up with that? Anyway back to what I was saying about corrections… some of the coolest moments in ballet classes this week were the corrections! No kidding! I’ve not been getting many corrections lately and was starting to wonder if that’s a bad thing in ballet class. To add to those worrisome thoughts, I was also starting to feel like I hit a plateau and haven’t been making any real progress. In fact, I was beginning to worry that maybe I’ve actually been getting worse!

This week, I got some amazing corrections. The first was during a fairly simple tendu exercise at the barre, some slow tendus followed by some fast tendus then into some rond de jambe a terres, frenchy-frenchy-french etc. My Amazing Ballet Teacher wanted to me feel the difference between the slow tendus and the fast tendus, the difference in the music and in the energy, to really use all of my foot and not to neglect the energy in the standing leg and then moving through the rond de jambes to explore the stretch and the whip of the leg and foot. During the week, I got corrections about exploring and working inside the music and corrections about very specific technical work. The last correction of the week was to be very careful about a little hip wiggle, mostly on my right side. As my Amazing Ballet Teacher was identifying the hitch and helping me recognize where it is and therefore how to rid myself of it, I felt the difference and although I was already in my 2nd hour of ballet class, I could feel a brightness and a lightness run through me. I gave him a smile that he returned and he said, “There, that’s clean.” Clean! Clean! I did something that could be termed clean technique!!! I realized that my corrections this week have all been on an entirely different level from the corrections that I had been getting only weeks before. And each correction fills me with hope, energy, and motivation that I am indeed progressing and that I am getting corrections that I am ready and capable of mastering.

Corrections, hard work, sweat, and new challenges – bring it! Let’s dig a little deeper, ballerini, let’s stomp the ballet studio like only ballet dancers can!

X X X

I really didn’t feel like going to ballet class tonight. I know, I know, that’s blasphemy but it’s the truth. My day was _____, please feel free to help me out with an appropriate obscenity of your choice. I don’t normally use curse words but off the top of my head I can think of several that apply. 5:45pm rolled around and I was exhausted, headachey, grouchy, and overall not in the mood to try to wiggle my little self into tights and a leotard, jump into bumper to bumper traffic, sit there making faces of exasperation for a hour, circle a couple of blocks of Melrose looking for parking, just to get foot cramps trying to do steps that I can’t do with turnout that I don’t have and pretend to be all ballerina-ey when I’m really more fruit bat than swan. What I really wanted to do was put on warm flannel pajamas, turn on the fireplace, and curl up with a good book and a bowl of cereal.

Instead, I donned the pink tights. And listened to my teacher’s ballet music all the way to West LA.

I love ballet. I love ballet class. I was not in love with the idea of going to ballet class tonight. I was not in love with a leotard that makes me feel fat. I was not in love with traffic from the bowels of Hades. I was not in love with foot cramps. I was not in love with the fact that I ran out of G2 Gatoraide. I was not in love with you and I was not in love with me. I was still in love with ballet. I am still in love with ballet class. When the music starts, I feel the cold of the barre in my hand, the seams of the floor under my dirty, pink flatties, and I am home inside myself. When I reach up into releve and feel my breath slow as I stick my balance pulling into high passe, time slows down and I begin to feel ballet instead of trying to make my body do something that my brain doesn’t think that I can do. When my awesome ballet teacher asks who wants to practice turns, my hand sails upwards without a second thought. From literally out of thin air, I am spotting my way out of turns and not making myself dizzy. I feel sweat run down the back of my neck, my legs begin to tingle sore as I drop down to the floor with my bag, sweater, and Chucks.

Class is over. 90 minutes just for love.

~X O X O