A Voice

A ballerina doesn't speak. In fact, she spends thousands of hours learning to train her body from the way she breathes to how she extends her finger tips, making it so expressive that no words are necessary. A ballerina feels and thinks like everyone else, but instead of talking, every last drop of those thoughts and feelings is internalized and brought to life through movement. 

I have spent my life in studios. Standing at the barre, the feel of its wood, polished from the grips of hundreds of dancers before me, in my hand ... these are the places I feel most at home. I can dance my way through any emotion, and in many ways I have. I danced through heartbreak, through uncertainty, through happiness, and through my father's death. But now, something inside of me is telling me to write. 

I want to use the words like steps in a ballet -- carefully strung together and perfected until they flow gracefully, effortlessly conveying what is in my mind and heart. This blog will be just that: whatever strikes my fancy, whatever is on my mind, choreographed into a what I hope to be an eloquent string of words. For my eyes only or any others that happen by -- ballerina speaks.