Category Archives: life

My First Official Teaching* Experience!

*Teaching dance, that is.

Today we did acro balancing, during which we built three-high tabletop stacks, played around on the silks in Open Fly – I finally got my dancer’s foot-lock down! — and then buckled down for Dance for Aerials, which is a very cool class, it turns out.

 

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Weird. I had captioned this, but WP ate my caption. Anyway, I’m not in this stack, because the pictures of the stacks I was in have readily-identifiable pictures of younger kids, and I don’t feel right posting them here without parental permission. But you get the idea!

 

I’m apprentice-teaching this one, and that was awesome. I get to poke people and fix their placement and so forth, and the class as a whole is very receptive and engaged. Eventually I’ll be putting together some combinations for the choreographic bits of the class.

I was really impressed with the students’ natural placement of the torso — for the most part, everyone hit the shoulders-over-hips sweet spot without coaching (unlike me!). Likewise, I didn’t see a single dancer forcing turnout.

The challenge for everyone will be carrying the arms from the back and learning to place the shoulders, arms, elbows, wrists, and hands to maintain a graceful line, but that’s the same challenge everyone works on forever and ever in ballet and Western dance in general.

Fortunately, I’ve had plenty of time to think about that, excellent instruction, and great models, so explaining that part to new dancers is very doable. I got good results, and Ms. A said I did a good job.

I have a bunch of books to read that I’m really looking forward to getting into, and I’m really excited about next week’s class.

The Story of My Newest Superpower

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Good Class, Mediocre Class, Best Husband Evar

Advanced class was pretty good this morning, once we all thawed. I remembered to eat and to take my Adderall, so it was easier to focus when Ms. T was giving the combinations.

Cirque classes were meh — I burned the palm of my hand the other day while retrieving a pizza from the oven and the blister tore and peeled off, so we struggled to find a way to compensate for that. Juggling wasn’t too bad, but Vertical Variety was a challenge. I wore Denis’ work gloves, which kept the wound from getting any worse, but made doing things awkward. I’m not normally prone to any degree of fear on aerial apparatus, but kept feeling alarmed because I couldn’t grip the dance pole. Weird.

My blood sugar tanked by the end of the second class. When I got home, I tried to make a sandwich, burned it, and completely flipped out. Afterwards, Denis made me feel better. I can’t express how much that means to me. I have come to understand the value of comfort; the importance of a warm pair of arms to hold you together when you feel like you’re flying apart from the inside of.

I’ve decided to talk to my GP about possible ways of dealing with my hormonal fluctuations, which are exacerbating my bipolar symptoms. That’s one thing I can do without disastrous side-effects, and hormonal therapy did help in the past.

I may see if I can switch to a controlled-release ADHD medication for a bit, because I’m having trouble remembering to take my pills.

In other news, I heard back on my Columbia application today. Not good news, but it’s not the end of the world (yes, to some extent, this is me keeping a stiff upper lip). I need to finish my other applications; if I don’t get accepted into a program, though, I have other irons in the fire.

Regardless, a rejection letter from any other program wouldn’t sting as much: in short, I’ve never received one before. The first is the hardest.

So that’s that. I’m going to go cook myself in the tub now.

Things

For my birthday, I got a new pair of Sansha Pro1cs. Our local dancewear store doesn’t carry Capezio’s Romeo shoes, so I got fitted, and I’m going to try these and then maybe order some Romeos down the line if the fit is right, since the ballet-shoe experts at the shop can figure out the size equivalents.

I also got a new dance belt — a second copy of the black one I already had, but I think Capezio has updated the design with different elastic, and as a result it’s about 1,000 times more comfortable than the old one was on Day 1. I wore it to Trapeze and Conditioning classes tonight.

My Mom sent me a copy of Shunryu Suzuki’s Branching Streams Flow In The Darkness. I’m very much looking forward to reading it.

It’s nice to get useful things (okay, so I totally picked them out myself [update: not the book; that was all Mom], but still), and getting to visit the dance-stuff store with B. and Denis was a great deal of fun. Especially since the lady at the dance-stuff store said of B. and me (while chatting about having to warn younger kids about not toppling the portable barre), “…but you guys are seasoned professionals.”

Between that and the million times I heard the word “Beautiful!” during Trapeze 1, I am amazed that my ego actually fit through the door tonight 🙂

Everything Crammed Into One Post

The past several days have been busy-in-excess-of-my-usual-policy, so here’s a quick recap:

Thursday, I took the road test for a driver’s license, passed it with flying colors, went home for a couple hours, went to bell choir practice, then went to another awesome session of Acro-Balancing in which we all more or less failed to actually nail a five-person fan, but had a great time trying.

Friday, I drove out and picked up my friend Robert, who is staying with us as part of his relocating-to-Louisville process. We did some kind of class on Friday evening, but I can’t honestly remember what it was 😛

Saturday, Advanced Class went reasonably well, though my turns weren’t great for reasons I don’t quite comprehend (probably, though, I was just tired). Juggling class also went well, as did … um … whatever we did after that, which might have been one or another form of conditioning?

Sunday, I didn’t get to do any cirque stuff because I played bells, and that was excellent. We did really well, and we played Holst’s Thaxted and two other pieces, including a really cool modern arrangement for choir, organ, and bells of a 15th-century piece. I love the music of that period, so that was a blast.

Monday morning, I continued to suck at turns because I continued to be tired. Barre was excellent, though. Monday evening, we did Fitness & Flexibility and Silks 1, during which Denis and I both shot a little bit of video with my phone.

Once my phone stops being a jerk and refusing to upload, I’ll post said video here. Mine is extremely short, unfortunately, and I didn’t think to ask Denis to shoot the lovely roll-ups that I did. I have less than a minute of spinning mermaid-into-tuck, and it’s rather nice (though, being me, I get hung up on the fact that my side plank was a wee bit saggy).

To top things off, I executed an absolutely beautiful pirouette while talking with my silks teacher about why a certain roll-up move we were doing felt so natural and intuitive to me. Why couldn’t I have had beautiful turns in ballet class???!!!!!

It’s really interesting how some things on silks are intuitive for dancers and some aren’t. The arabesque on silks is, in fact, counter-intuitive from a ballet perspective — you use an entirely different bodily process to achieve the same end result, so it’s the thing I struggle with the most (which makes everyone else in class feel better, since some of the things that are hard for everyone else are really easy for me).

So that’s where I’ve been the past few days. Moving Robert in has involved the usual array of setup, shopping, and so forth, which has eaten up a fair bit of time.
Things are more or less back to normal now, though.

Tomorrow is my birthday, so I think I’m going to drop by our local dancewear store and treat myself to some new shoes, complete with a proper fitting. It would be awesome to have a nice pair of shoes that don’t roll off the backs of my feet at the worst possible moment (currently, my super cheap eBay shoes don’t roll off, but they’re also not going to hold up forever).

Video to follow!

Brraaaiiinnnzzzzz

Quickie: On Having A Passion

Bipolar On Fire recently wrote a beautiful post called “Before I Die,” inspired by that thing that has been happening where people write the things they want to do before they die on the sides of buildings or what have you.

I used to have a really hard time with that sort of thing because there were so many things that seemed like The Most Important Thing.

This was, in fact, the great stumbling block in my life in general. Everything seemed so hugely, staggeringly important that it was almost impossible to do anything.

…And then I started dancing again, and everything became so much easier.

Usually people figure out that they want dance to drive their lives when they’re in, like, high school … or even before that.

I didn’t have that experience (because reasons; Serious Things Got In The Way, etc) then, but that doesn’t mean that having it now is in some way invalid.

…And it makes prioritizing the list of things to do Before I Die so much easier. Um, not that I’m planning on dying any time soon.

I’m not sure I’m ready to post that list yet: you know, that whole To Know, To Will, To Dare, To Keep Silent thing. I am afraid of jinxing myself, and maybe a little bit afraid that people will be like, “You can’t do that,” even though, frankly, it’s not up to them.

The funny thing is, to an extent, the list of things I want to do before I die, but that are going to take a while (hello, choreographing an entire 3-act ballet!) are some of the things that help me hold on when dying starts to look like a good idea.

Yeah, there’s a part of me that’s like, “FFS, how have you not done ANY OF THESE THINGS yet? You, sir, provide an example towards which the failures of the future might someday hope to strive.”

And then another part is like, “Hey, wait! We have actually done this thing over here, and this other thing, and we think this third thing might actually be a worthwhile contribution to the world. And that seems like a good reason to stick around.”

It doesn’t always make a huge difference, but sometimes that modicum of snuff* positivity can be most efficacious.

*Three cheers if you catch this reference. Also, I just want to be dainty.

Maybe, since I seem to be doing this thing this year where I am learning to be brave in new ways, I will try to, like, actually post my own list of things I mean to do before I die.

Some of them don’t even revolve directly around ballet (shocking, I know).

So, in short, having a passion can make a huge difference in prioritizing all those things that seem so critically important; all those things that you have to do Before You Die.

Okay, enough of this for tonight. I’m going to bed, so tomorrow I can get up and dance.

The Show Goes On

Last night, I wrote about how sometimes living with bipolar feels like walking a tightrope; how the only way to survive is to keep your eyes up and keep moving forward.

Ballet is the thing that makes me able to do that.

This morning, getting up was a complicated, but I did get up, and I made it to class.

..And I’m glad we did, as we had four new dancers (new to class, not new to ballet), all of whom were quite good, and two of whom were guys.

Barre went well except for the double-rond-de-jambe-and-frappe combination, which went badly at first because I apparently brain-dumped it right at the start. I remembered it before we started the second side, though.

I also miraculously remembered how to sissone (though my turns … oy vey … my turns) and did the assemblé-sissone-chassé-jeté combination fairly well (after the first time, during which I failed to put my working foot down between the sissone and the chassé and turned it into some kind of awkward saut de chat).

In case you’re wondering, by the way, I think the entirety of that combination went:

assemblé (à droit, R foot back, no change)
sissone (avant)
chassé
jeté

assemblé (à gauche, L foot back, no change)
sissone (avant)
chassé
jeté

assemblé (à droit)
jeté
jeté
jeté

assemblé (à gauche)
jeté
jeté
jeté

…though I may be combining it with the other petit allegro combination we did (glissade-assemblé-jeté-hold; glissade-assemblé-jeté-hold; etc) come to think of it. Regardless, it was something very much like that.

In short: not difficult, but a mild brain teaser, since you have to get the directions of your feet right and there’s a little change of direction entailed in the sissone. It was also a nice-looking combination, and one of the new girls did lovely little battus on all the jetés on our first run.

It no longer feels weird to start a combination with assemblé

There is definitely a part of me that likes to show off or something in the presence of other male dancers (particularly when they are not so much better at dancing than I am as to make me look patently ridiculous). Today, it worked — my dancing was better overall than it was at any point last week, and although my turns were a tad wild and sloppy, they weren’t as horrible as they might have been.

It’s weird (if unsurprising) how much what’s going on in your head can influence your dancing. Saturday, even before the disaster with my ear, I was tired and achy and didn’t feel like I was going to acquit myself respectably, so I didn’t.

Today, I wasn’t thinking about any of that. Instead, it was like I had a little Japanese grade-school kid from some monster-battle anime series in my head saying, “Let’s do our best!” (“Jeté battu, I choose you!”)

Bizarrely, that worked. And we got to do saut de basques, which I lurve. And my assemblé looked good — high and suspended and not afflicted with horrible kraken arms or an unnecessarily curvilinear torso. So, huzzah. I suppose once I’ve had that nailed down for a couple of weeks, I should tried to put a beat back into it.

Because we do oceans of beats in advanced class, I’m really focused on using my inner thighs during barre, closing every tendu, degagé, and jeté by pulling the inner thigh muscles together instead of pushing in with the quadriceps (as if I was pedaling a bike or something).

When one uses the inner-thigh muscles, one tends to automatically engage both, maintaining alignment and placement; likewise, getting to a solid fifth between jumps is much easier.

Think: glissade to fifth, giant plié, brush out from plié, grand assemblé, for example. The working leg is carried by the momentum of the initiating brush, then the quadriceps (and some other muscles) in the supporting leg provide the spring; both legs are collected inward by the engagement of the inner thighs; the plié tension-loads the spring again; then a second brush (from the bottom of the plié) carries the working leg out and up, the quads (and related muscles) in the supporting leg push through to activate the spring; and the inner thigh brings the second leg up to meet the working leg.

Without the collecting movement from the inner thighs, a solid fifth position is unlikely; without a solid fifth, the grand assemblé is unlikely to be as … well … grand.

When one uses the quads, the body tends to shift towards the working leg, which pulls the balance away from the ball of the supporting foot. “Things fall apart, the center cannot hold,” &c.

As in cycling, the quads should be used mostly for pushing down; you need them to give you explosive power during jumps. When you pull in, you use the inner thighs; when you lift into passé, the impulsion comes from under the thigh and buttock. Incidentally, this also prevents that thing where your leg grips itself into a horrible spasm as you développé.

All this actually makes it much easier both to keep my knees straight and to maintain my turnout. It also makes maintaining balance and placement easier. I did the first set of fast degagés sans barre (7 each way x2; then pliés to relevé), though I did take the barre for the second set, which was really, really fast.

I guess I also need to get back to focusing on carrying my upper body directly atop my hips. This really imparts a surprising amount of lightness. I found myself doing this today as a function of not trying to look like a dork in front of the new dancers, and as a result, my work at center and going across the floor looked pretty good.

Aerials should help with that, as part of the problem is an imbalance between my back muscles (those “arabesque muscles” again) which are ridiculously strong (because I have spent a ridiculous amount of time cultivating a beautiful arabesque and a lovely, controlled penché), and my core muscles, which are not as strong (because I am lazy).

In short, this is what happens when we focus more on our strengths than our weaknesses … the weaknesses get weaker. Because I’m flexible and can get into a really nice arabesque as a result, I seize every single opportunity to use my arabesque.

Need a teacup on a high shelf? Arabesque. Need to hand something to Denis when he’s standing a half-meter or so away? Arabesque. Collecting Denis’ empty glass when he’s sitting on the sofa? Arabesque penché.

But do I work my core muscles anywhere near as much?

Hahaha. No.

Aerials are all about the core, though, so that will get fixed.

In other news, on the way home from class, I learned that David Bowie had died.

It was startling, in a way, because I was just listening to some of his stuff from Blackstar last night and thinking about how cool it is that he’s still creating and innovating in his late 60s.

Bowie contributed a great deal to the cultivation of popular music, and it says a great deal about his work that he will be sorely missed across several generations.

I don’t have much more to say about that right now, though. What do you say when an icon falls?

Someone I know on facebook said it best: Imagine the ticket lines in Heaven for the Bowie-Mercury reunion show!

Walking the Tightrope

There is a thing about trying to live with bipolar, a thing where sometimes, maybe often, it feels like walking a tightrope.

You’re on this knife’s-edge, and if you stop, you’ll fall.

So you keep “moving forward, using all [your] breath,” gritting your teeth and trying to relax your neck (which is weirdly like the first passé balance en relevé at the barre, come to think of it).

The only thing that keeps you upright is momentum (which is totally unlike that aforementioned passé relevé balance; you don’t have momentum to save you, just the dancer’s wordless prayer and good technique and a few hundred years of evidence that it can be done).

If you falter, you fall (presumably in flame, like the “…staaaaaaaars, in their multitudes, scarce to be counted…” — which is totally unlike ballet class; we mostly try to avoid self-immolation during barre, no matter how tempting it may seem).

Life with bipolar is coolly executing 32 fouettés as you feel your supporting pointe shoe slowly unraveling; it’s lifting the ballerina and feeling something give in your shoulder and continuing to gaze serenely up into her eyes as you desperately pray you’ll make it to the end of the pas de deux.

We don’t show it because that’s life. To some extent, life is a performance, and the show must go on. It is when your edges crack, when hints of Von Rothbart invade our Dashing Prince routine that the world spooks and backs away. So we hold out as long as we can, as well as we can. Seigfried is not also supposed to be Von Rothbart, after all.

So this is how I live much of my life, how I’m living right now. Bipolar tells me to stay in the house, but tomorrow I’ll go to class anyway. Bipolar tells me that I should give up on the tutoring job I’m applying for, but I’m going to fight my way towards that, too.

Bipolar tells me I’m going to fall, so I keep going, one foot after the other, across the chasm, never looking down.

To Build A Birdhouse: Why “MyPlate” and All The Lifestyle Guides In the World Aren’t Enough

(Or, well, some of the reasons, anyway.)

I’ve been reading some really good articles about re-framing our cultural conversation around body size and, for once, reading the comments*, and I’ve discovered that, when it comes to talking about things like diet an exercise, many of us lose sight of one really critical idea:

Knowing about a thing isn’t the same
as knowing how to do that thing.

*You guys, deciding not to even look at the G-d-forsaken comments except in special cases has been one of the best decisions I ever made.

I repeat:

Knowing about a thing isn’t the same as knowing how to do that thing.

…And it really isn’t the same as knowing how to do that thing in a way that works for us, that feels good (which is far, far more important than we like to acknowledge), and that lets us keep doing it indefinitely.

If it was, a lot more of us would look exactly the way we want to look (within the limitations imposed by our genetic makeup, anyway — some of us build bigger muscles easily, some of us have long and elegant muscular insertion points, etc.).

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