...quiet, about a lot of things...
Sunday, August 06, 2006
I'm at home on a short break from my horse show...house is quiet as my kids, mother in law and husband have gone off to a scottish festival. I sneak a peak at Sunday scribbling....at what an appropriate topic... Thank you kismet.
I have thought of who else I may have been, were things different, many times...many too many times.It's kind of a Pandoras box question. Very easy to get stuck in...like the La Brea tar pits...
I've wondered what it would be like to point my right toes....to arch my foot beautifully and extend my right leg, back arched, in a full arabesque. My mother was a dancer. I have a good sense of rhythm. I wonder what that profound sense of balance and poise would feel like, standing on point.
My best friend used to be a ballerina. I always wanted her toe shoes....really badly. My left foot arched, I would try one baby pink slipper on, and lace the silk ribbons up my calf. How beautiful it felt...How divine. But then ...there was my right side..with its spindle thin calf and foot that hung like a non responsive brick. Ballerinas had sparrowed feet they flew on.. not a stone weight dragged along..leaving an ugly smear.
Ballerinas walked with their chins up, eyes bold yet soft, bodies throbbing with music. Their long hair never seemed to have knots. I grew up with short hair, that always seemed to stick to my cheeks. I tripped along through my youth..always had bandaids on my knees, but got really good at getting up..and not crying. I felt the music too..I was sure...but only danced when I was alone.
Read more should woulda coulda...at Sunday Scribblings