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I woke this morning with the music for Albrecht’s variation in my head. I’m not sure why, unless it’s a function of something JB said to us class yesterday: “It’s still grand allegro, but it’s not Giselle. It’s more like Don Quixote.”

It’s a useful shorthand in the same way that, “More Balanchine, less Bolshoi” is useful. 

Also a good excuse for watching ballet: I should watch Don Qagain. I’ve only seen it once. 

Research, you know. 


Yesterday after class I did a million tiny Sissones and temps des cuisses[1] in my kitchen, which involved a significant feat of restraint, since my kitchen is tiny and I like to JUMP. 

Last night I dreamed I was being examined in class, and I had to do endless grand pirouettes in a crowded room. I kept getting angry myself for half-assing the placement of my working leg, which I definitely do in real life when I’m tired. 

Regardless, I can’t do those in my kitchen. Not if I enjoy the health of my feet. 

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