My husband bought me the figurine of the little ballerina years ago, and I have always loved looking at it.
One of my first dreams was to become a ballerina some day, and I still remember my first dance class at the Summer Recreation Center when I was four years old.
Many years would pass before I had a chance to learn to dance, but even today at 60, I cherish those years in ballet class, immersed in classical music and my own psyche- always trying to do better in spite of the difficulties.
In ballet class the struggles are endless, improve your turn-out (my knees tell that story!), increase your extension- higher, higher with that leg! Point the toes harder, harder, try your best to make your flat feet look curvaceous and lovely! Jump higher, turn faster, increase your stamina, more plie! More pirouettes! More, more , more and ever more.
In spite of the fact I started dancing late and my body was never suited for ballet, I loved each and every one of the thousands of ballet classes I took over the years. Loved them so much that I wanted more than anything to share that love with my own students. Sometimes I would spend hours composing choreography for ballet classes for my students.
After all these years, all I can hope is that they enjoyed them as much as I enjoyed teaching them!
Today I no longer dance. I paint. The challenges are just as great, but the fun for me is not in the challenge but in seeing the result.
I struggled with this one. Painting the figurine proved much more challenging than I would have expected. The light across the table mesmerized me as it swept over and beyond the figure and bouquet of roses. I hope I was able to capture a little bit of that magic!