Pointed Toes

Today I only ventured out of my house to grab some Starbucks. Exciting life, I know. But Honestly today was a good day. I caught up on some shows I missed (including last night’s premiere of Big Brother), did some house work, and took a stroll down memory lane. You see, today I searched into the back of my closet and pulled out my old toe shoes from ballet….and I may or may not have put on one of my old leo’s. I started ballet when I was five years old, and continued until I was thirteen, minus the year I took off to play soccer. My seven years of learning housed some of the greatest moments I’ve had. I always looked forward to my class each week: My mom driving me to Mrs. Harvison’s house. Walking around the back of her house to the studio door, and the distinct smell of resin and potpourri filling the air inside. Slipping on my shoes as Mrs. Harvison places a record of classical music on the record player, signaling it was time to go to the bar for warm ups. The countless pliés, torjettes, and leaps I practiced. I hope those memories never leave me. Ballet was more than dance to me, it was a passion. I still remember the day my teacher told me I was ready to advance to pointe shoes…my excitement was overwhelming. I remember the nerves that filled me up before my first solo in a recital. I remember the hours spent laughing with the friends I made. Sadly, I also remember the day I was told it was going to end; the day Mrs. Harvison announced that she was retiring after 37 years of teaching. It killed me to think that I wouldn’t continue under her instruction, or that I wouldn’t have the special senior solo in the recital that the girls who graduated did. But mostly, I hated that it meant I had to stop dancing, because all the other ballet schools were just too expensive.So today as I danced like a fool in my empty house and attempted to balance on my tippy toes, I reminisced about my ballet muscles that are long gone, and the memories that came with them.

But of course I couldn’t talk about this without a few photos….

My very first year: I was a pony for a carousel…you can almost see my pink yarn tail in this photo haha

Just a few dancing roses

By far my favorite costume (I legit told my mom I wanted my prom dress to look like this one day…I had sick style obviously)

Swans for Swan Lake of course!

My very last year (as seen by my teary puffy eyes…I was a tad emotional)

Some of the pins I received each year. Whaddup perfect attendance

Each year we received a rose at the recital, I kept every one! (The dusty one up front is from my first year)

When Mrs. Harvison was retiring, she let each girl take something home from her dance studio as a keepsake. This figurine still sits on my book shelf

I found my old dance teacher on Facebook AND she commented on the photo I posted of my old shoes!! To say I was psyched is an understatement :)

 To this day, the art form still fascinates me. The way the pro’s look so effortless is amazing. There is no doubt in my mind that if I ever have a little girl, she will totally do ballet….at least for a few years ;)