One Week Without Ballet

So, here I am, doing everything to save three nights of each and every single week for ballet: Monday, Wednesday, Friday. The perfect combination, with one day of rest in between, and the perfect variety of classes: Intermediate – basic beginner – intermediate.

Last week, I didn’t attend a single class.

On Monday, on my drive to work in the morning, my stomach was telling me that it didn’t really feel comfortable, and in the course of the day, pain in my shoulders and exhaustion added on top of it, so I decided to go home and take an early rest. Less one ballet class. And hard feelings on Tuesday that I should have just forced myself into going and would have felt better after it.

On Wednesday, I had to stay back at work on very short notice. I normally finish at six, while the gallery stays open until seven, and whenever someone needs to leave early, I am the one extending my hours. I made it clear that I would leave at 6:30 to be on time for my ballet class. But, then, between six and 6:50, there was someone lingering in the gallery all the time. Normally, no one comes around that time, but Wednesday, no one wanted to leave. So when I was finally able to close down the gallery without having to throw someone out, it was too late to even bother to go to class. With the MTR ride, the walk, the changing, I would have arrived no earlier than center work. Once more: hard feelings on the day after, but this time towards my colleagues. And some cursing my sense of duty.

Friday, last chance to ballet this week: I feel fine, am looking forward, I even tell friends I will meet them after class and they will have to wait for me. Then, after lunch, a sudden outbreak of nausea and the feeling feverish. Although I took two cold pills immediately, by six my stomach is still really upset and I don’t feel like I should be dancing. So, I go home and to bed, and I couldn’t sleep the whole night.

Summary: No ballet for a whole week. I feel fat, I feel weak, I feel clumsy, and stressed. Ballet not only makes me feel better about myself in my body, but also with my soul. It relaxes me.



Visitors from Far Away

I had to work on a Sunday recently: The gallery was open, staff rare, and people coming to the current show numerous. I don’t mind working on Sundays – everyone seems to be a bit more relaxed, traffic on my long way to and from work is lighter, and I get to do stuff in my “pending” box that I don’t get to do when everyone else is here.

There was a beautiful elder couple coming to the gallery. She had this gracious body, beautiful blue eyes, and that natural white tone of hair that I am hoping I will get when I grow white. It isn’t grey, it’s white, and a color with a very cool undertone, so it looks great if you wear blue clothes. I don’t remember his looks, but he was one of those persons that you like whenever you first lay eyes on them. They had a look at the photographs, then they flipped through the books, and then finally we started chatting a little bit. It turned out they were from Toronto, which they thought was quite a boring but very livable city, and they had just finished a tour of China. We chatted a bit about China and Toronto, and about the photographs in the books. And we went through this book about a project Annie Leibovitz┬áhad taken in the early 1990s: The White Oak Dance Project.

It turned out they knew so much about these dancers, about other companies, and the we went on talking about Pina Bausch, Wim Wenders’ movie on her, how her company is so extraordinary, and how old dancers are so stunning and beautiful. It was such a nice chat, and I enjoyed it enormously.

When they left the gallery, my colleague pointed me to the color of the nail polish on the lady’s feet: It such a nice, lively, unforgettable blue!