I woke up yesterday morning to perfect weather. I spent about two hours dancing around my house to Minkus and Stravinsky and working on my new pieces. I strolled outside into the perfect 72-degree temperature, informed my neighbor that it was indeed a great day to be alive, and strolled over to rehearsal. Barre felt great, I felt very in tune with my body; full of Dance and Life and Whee Yay I Love Everybody....
.........and then I proceeded to have one of those rehearsals where somebody was constantly screwing up. And by "somebody," I mean "me." Good-bye, wind in my sails! It’s unbearably frustrating to clam up on a ballet that I’ve already danced—and not just once, either; we performed that puppy thirteen times last winter. And with me, it’s the little things that are always going awry. Developpes? Sure. Pirouettes? Let’s do some. Super-fast allegro? Bring it! That part that a retarded tortoise could do? I just messed it up for the nineteenth time. * facepalm * It’s embarrassing, but that’s the way I’ve always been. Sorry, fellow dancers. Feel free to throw things (just not really big things, if you please. Dancing + concussion = bad combination).
Thankfully, I felt a lot better in the second half of rehearsal and could actually dance --without feeling like a complete tool. That’s always a plus, right? By the time rehearsal was over, my high spirits had returned.
I had an excellent time at the studio last night: I introduced a whole bevy of new material to my modern kiddos, inducted them into the chaotic world of Trying To Count Stravinsky (they’re doing a Stravinsky piece this season--thankfully these kids can pretty much count anything), and did “stunt night” with my last group (I’ve got Big Plans for the piece they’re doing. It’s exciting). I love those kiddos, I really do.
After I got home I spent some quality time with the coolest person in town; we drank pinot grigio, we listened to excellent music, we had great conversations. We eventually decided that sleep was overrated and continued having an awesome time until the wee hours. This morning, there was much coffee—it’s time for more rehearsals, more classes, more choreography. Sleep or no sleep.