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Moderately sucked at modern today. Ballet, on the other hand, was rather good, except for the part in which I misunderestimated my tendency to travel and lame-ducked myself right into the shelf-desk thing on which the music system resides.

Also, salient men’s technique bits: instead of B+, preparatory position for dudes is usually with the back leg straight (notable exceptions: Balanchine et Bournonville(1)); likewise, we generally chassé into hell turns  chaînes. I suspect that’s how I learned then as a wee bairn, in fact, because when I do then that way my body suddenly to the, “Oh, you mean these things!” instead of, “ABORT! ABORT!”

  1. Autocorrupt always tries to make this “Bidonville.” A bidon is a bottle, like an old-fashioned water bottle for bike racing. The idea of the magnificent Erik Bruhn arising from a school founded by someone named “Bottletown” never fails to make me chortle with unrestrained mirth.

BW has a gift for bringing out the best in his students—or at least in me. BB agrees, though. We both love his classes.

In other news, I’ve evolved an alarming tendency to do turns on autopilot, then think I haven’t done them and do extra turns. WTF even if that? I threw in an extra stepover, even.

In other, other news, I forgot my legwarmers, so BW lent me some of his. He described them as “fashion backward,” and we joked about how they look like they were knitted from a 1970s sofa, but they did the job just fine. 

Each Spring, sofherds guide the half-wild flocks down from the hills, where they’re shorn of their thick winter coats before returning to the range (via Pinterest).

I remembered to give them back after class. It feels weird, somehow, to hand someone a sweaty ball of legwarmers, though—which is in itself weird, as exchanging sweat-soaked hugs with other dancers seems perfectly normal. Maybe it’s the, “Oh, here, have some sweat to take home” angle that feels so weird.
Anyway, this is one of of the nice things about taking a tiny class taught by a friend. If you forget your legwarmers because your brain is full, your teacher can lend you his without making everyone else who forgot theirs feel unloved or whatevs.

Anyway, I’m quite tired and looking forward to my rest day tomorrow. 

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