Happy New Ballet Year!

Dear Readers and Fellow Dancers,

You may have noticed that my blog updates have been somewhat sparse all year. It's the usual adult dancer's combo of work, duty, and dance - and then being too tired/busy to write about it. It has been a great year though. Lots of wonderful discoveries, awesome classes, real progress and the ballet bliss we all love so much. I promise to give you a decent recap, as soon as I recover from the New Year's festivities. There are currently eight unfinished posts in my box, but the ones I'm really itching to finish next are: "Best of Ballet 2013" and "Seeing Myself in Class, on Video, and What Happened Next"(working title). I might still write a "Dance Resolutions for the New Year," as is tradition. But I really have no resolutions, or new promises to make. All I need is class time with my favorite teacher(s), and I'm set. Ballet work is what I love to do.

I wish you the same, lots of amazing classes. Mistakes that lead into new discoveries and progress. Moments when everything comes together. Balances that last forever. Flying grand jetés. Being the boss of your pirouettes. Keep dreaming and believe in yourself!

- Johanna

She's Got Legs

I got some very interesting feedback today. We were in the midst of a fondue exercise facing the barre, when my teacher came over. She told me that the shape of my legs has changed... From the tone of her voice (pleased) and the smile on her face, I figured that this was a good thing. She said that it was because of the work I've been doing. I know that my technique has improved in the past year, and I can feel a difference - but I can't really see it. I mean, I see that my feet are more stretched and pointed and my heels more often forwarded than not... But this is action, not appearance.

I've always had very muscular legs, more sporty than ballerina. And I have to admit that I've looked at some of my fellow dancers' slim and long legs with a bit of envy. When I do, I try to remember that mine work pretty well. I would not want to give up my bounce in exchange for mere ballerina looks. Anyway, my legs match the rest of my body. Still... I did not think it possible that they could look any different, not after dancing for twenty years. And guys, I'm not talking diets. Sure, I could skip my treats (chocolate + cookies), and loose a few pounds - but my face gets too skinny before my body gets just "right".  So I rather have a little extra padding. That's all on that topic.

When I got home today and changed into my comfortable sweats, I could not help but check myself out in the mirror. I still see the same: strong legs and slightly out-of-shape thighs. However, when I stretch, turn out and point, they do look like dancer legs. Not ballerina-slim and hyper-extended, but athletic and shaped by ballet. And that's pretty damn awesome.

Summer 2012, which would make this photo the "before-picture". I really should take some new.. ;)

Lesson Learned

It happened two weeks ago. We were doing this beautiful and rather challenging adagio in center, to the left side, leg up and in grand ronde de jambe... When I kind of lost my focus, my control and my balance. Normally, it's not a big deal. We're not machines, mistakes happen, and it's all part of the dance, right? But that time, I got this sinking feeling... And with it my confidence flew out of the studio. It's a hole I've been in before, and one that's damned hard to climb out again. Even though I recognized the feeling and knew that I should have axed it right there and then, I could not. But why? I had been counting the hours to be in that class again, it was my day off and Madame was teaching. It should have been ballet bliss, because usually, it always is.

What I had not taken into account: I was exhausted from a long eight-day working week, which included a four day expo out of town. After working weekends, you normally get a day off, but I was in the office on Monday - but not before an early morning root canal appointment. Torture. The next day, I dragged myself out of bed, because the mind is stronger than the body, and went to morning class. Noticed that my left foot was a bit painful around the peroneal tendon, but not so bad as to stop. The following day, while sliding my other foot to the back, I pinched a nerve right at the base of the big toe. It felt like going over a cheese grater. Oh, and to top it all off, I've been having another bout of positional vertigo. When I tilt my head to the right (like you would in a cambré), the room goes spinning for three seconds or so. It's all very annoying - but there are really no excuses. Either you stay home, or you work to the best of your abilities. What you do not do is give up.

I lost my confidence. Somehow I came to the conclusion that I suck. We have all been there, we even make jokes about it - because bad days happen to everyone. Sh*t happens. When I should have kicked myself into the butt and focused on class alone, I was giving myself a hard time instead. Even though I was still getting corrections. Praise too. The next day I thought, let's have a fresh start - but I kept falling back into my hole. One bad day turned into a bad week, and I knew that I was heading for trouble. That's when my teacher stepped in; it was time for an intervention. I'm very lucky that way. She knows me well enough, and told me exactly what I needed to hear. It was a private conversation, so no details here, but I will tell you that it was firm and kind. It lifted the fog off my brain. Not all at once, but I made the extra effort. I've been feeling my normal self since. Happy to be in class, no matter what.

Here's what I've learned: If you are walking-dead tired but still long to be in class, go easy on yourself. If you are achy, sore or are suffering from minor ailments, and still feel you have to be in class: don't push it. Don't expect to be your usual strong/balanced/good at turns or whatever it is you're usually good at. Do not compare yourself to the girls with the highest extensions or most flexible bodies, or whatever it is you don't possess. Remember that we are each unique. Appreciate all that you can do. Listen to your body. Breath. Most of all: be kind to yourself.

I have this one teacher who has a very special talent of creating a happy class environment. When Madame makes her rounds along the barre, every student gets positive feedback, a "good" here, a "bien" or "beautiful" there. Madame is also very demanding, and gives a great deal of personal and detailed corrections. Guidance too. She really sees everything that you do, and everything that you could be doing. I swear she has some kind of sixth sense. Maybe even x-ray vision. Seriously, I love her classes. I feel that she not only sees the present me, but also the dancer that I'm capable of being... Which made me think. Why be so damn hard on myself, when my teacher is so kind and positively encouraging? In the end, we can only dance with our own bodies - and we should not let doubtful minds get in the way. Believe in yourself. Know that you can.


Painting above by Katya Gridneva, 1965.

Shy Swan

This week, we have been working on this beautiful center adagio... It begins with a developpé to the front, then through first into arabesque plié, then developpé ecarté, followed by attitude promenade, into arabesque allongé. It's simple enough, though hardly easy. As if ballet is ever easy... But the real challenge comes with the port de bras. Swan arms! When my teacher demonstrated, it was as if Odette had come alive... No artifice, no cliches - but a fleeting moment of heart-stopping beauty. Feminine, fragile yet strong at the same time. Then it was our turn. "I want to see different swans... Be beautiful, make me enjoy it." At this point, [insert panic] and enter ugly duckling.

I can handle the basic second, third or fifth port de bras just fine - it's what I've been practicing since 1991. You learn the technique, and then it becomes your comfort zone. If you're a shy dancer/person like myself, it's a safe place to be. I can hide behind technique. Why? Partly, because ballet is such an unforgiving art form... A great joy to learn and to experience, but hard. Every flaw and mistake is immediately visible. Every bad day is on display for others to see. Sometimes, it feels like you're naked. But you cannot be an artist without daring to be vulnerable. Yes, I wrote "artist" - even though I'm just your average middle-aged late-starter recreational ballet dancer.

When our teacher told us to be "swans", my immediate thought was: I don't know how to be a swan, I will look silly trying to be one, which arm goes first and how did she make it look so beautiful, and what if I totally suck, and where can I hide... Lots of thoughts, even before the first move. But I gave it a try, duckling-style, and it was not so scary. Next time, Madame gave us a more detailed demonstration of the arms, and I tried to copy it as well as I could. Even though she said that the port de bras could be a little different for each of us. However, "different" means revealing yourself, showing your interpretation of the movement, your style (or lack thereof) - and I was not ready.

I'm still not 100% out there. But my confidence is growing. During the summer, I had more opportunities to "colour" my dancing, and to "play" with my port de bras - and it felt so right. After a lot of square & academic dancing, it was even liberating. Then, one of my summer teachers gave me unexpected and positive feedback, which made me very happy. I was doing my own thing (without changing the exercises of course) - and it turned out to be a good thing!

Now, it feels like everything is new again. I have a dream ballet schedule, I get to work with my favorite teacher on three days instead of one, and I have another awesome class on Sundays (with various teachers). There is still strong emphasis on clean technique, but I've been getting a lot more feedback on expressing myself. How to use my head and eyes, how to breathe into the movement, how to make it look interesting... How to dance, really. It's been an amazing experience. This duckling might yet grow into a swan.

Pointe(less)

I still haven't sewn on ribbons, but the elastic works well without. The shoes are Bloch Jetstreams, a pair I reinstated out of storage. Should really write a post about that. In short: I bought them too small, but recently figured out that I don't need ouchpouches. Tape on one toe and bunion area is enough. 

I haven't had a proper pointe class since May. To be precise, it was my last class with Madame, right before our spring show. During the summer schedule, my school does not offer pointe technique, probably because attendance would be too irregular. The only option is to take regular class on pointe, provided you're an advanced student or get permission from the teacher. I did just that, but it didn't work out as well as in previous summers. For one thing, the "easiest" level I'm able to attend is basic-intermediate - which is fine at the barre, but a challenge in center. Usually, I don't mind challenges, but the class is packed, and I don't like to feel crowded or rushed when I'm up on pointe. It makes me nervous. Another drawback: no pointe exercises at the barre. Last year, our teacher would give a few basic relevés and piqués (which benefit all students), but no such extras this summer. I modified the barre as much as I could, but... There were hardly pointe-specific corrections either, except once or twice. My teacher (not Madame) told me that with this many students (over twenty), it just isn't possible for her to look at my pointe technique. At least she didn't tell me to leave my shoes at home, which means that she trusts me to handle myself in a safe manner. So there's that. But, what's a grown-up dancer to do when she wants to progress on pointe, and there is none?

First, let's forget about progress for a while. Wearing the shoes in a regular class is work-out enough, even standing flat. There's a lot more resistance to simple degagés, and try standing in arabesque in center.. Controlling the wobble is a challenge! The first four weeks of our current 12-week summer schedule, I did a self-modified barre (fondues facing the barre), and switched into flatties after the first center exercise. Once, I tried to do a full class on pointe, but it got too frustrating. I have only three weekly classes and I do not want to waste one tripping over myself. Be as it may, doing something is better than doing nothing, even though most of my fellow students don't seem to mind the three-month break. I guess I'm a bit ballet-crazy like that. But you already knew that.

I have also been doing something you are not supposed to do. That is, I have been my own ballet teacher, practicing pointe by myself. I like doing pointe when my body is properly warmed up, especially my feet and ankles. My classes are last, and depending on the day, we have half an hour or longer before they throw us out. This gives me enough time for basic exercises, the kind I'm most familiar with - and the sort where I've been getting so many corrections, that I know what problems to look out for. Of course, it is not the same as working with an expert teacher. It never is.

Microfoam tape (above: Gaynor Minden Toe Tape) is slightly padded, and does not leave a sticky residue. It works great if your shoes are very snug, and cannot fit ouch pouches. Downside: it doesn't stay put when you sweat a lot.  Apply on dry feet only! Here, I used another tape to secure it at the big toe. The shoe's box/vamp holds the other end in place. Bonus: you can use the tape more than once (it's not that cheap). The pink arrows point to my ouch spots. 

In case you're interested, here's what I do: I start with demi pliés, rising onto demi pointe then stretching to full pointe, then lowering myself back, through the highest demi pointe possible. The same in reverse, and repeated in seconde. On full pointe, I add a plié, really pushing over the boxes and trying to retain that arch when I straighten again. I take care no to loose my turnout and not to stick my popo out. I then do the same relevés, but going up without pliés. Again, more relevés but this time with pliés and quicker. Then, rises on one leg and passé retirés. I've also been doing fondues and ballonés, but skip the harder stuff (like echappés). I have, however, compromised on my alignment: in class we are not supposed to look down at our feet (when practicing at the barre), because it changes your placement and line. But when you have only the mirror to rely on, it can't really be helped. I don't trust my sense of proper pointe placement that much yet.

And I do have quite a few pointe problems. My right knee still does not stretch and straighten properly. Either it's too slow, or too lazy. I know it has something to do with my leg length discrepancy (the right one is functionally longer), but mostly it just needs more awareness and more work. My right foot also has less of an arch and needs more pushing to get over the box. Second position is the worst, because I don't have a lot of turnout - and keeping those heels forward and feet pointed is Real Work! I think that in the three years I've worked on my pointe technique, this remains the biggest challenge.

Long post short, is there a point to my pointe endeavor? Yes, I think so. It has actually been fun. In addition to a mini barre, I've been doing piqué turns in center, as well as single pirouettes. Together with a friend, I've worked on relevés in attitude (holding on to my friend's arm, as in a pas de deux). Nothing we haven't done before, mind you. I'm not about to take any stupid risks or teach myself bad habits. I keep it simple, focus on my alignment, feel every muscle work and try to apply every correction I have ever received (and there have been plenty).  Do I recommend solo pointe work to everyone? No, I do not. Certainly not if you're still a beginner. Intermediate students: you might want to talk to your teacher about your options. I really miss taking pointe classes with Madame (she's back later in August), and being my own teacher is a poor substitute...  But it has been another learning experience. And that is not pointless at all.

A Paler Shade of Pink

Peachy or a paler shade of pink? Depends on the light and skin tone underneath. Both feet pictured are mine.

When it comes down to legwear for ballet class, I prefer black leggings over pink tights. Black feels more grown-up, post-grad, individual, even slightly rebellious. Although I never went to a ballet school that required pink tights, so I'm hardly expressing a new-found freedom. Mostly I prefer black because I feel less exposed, as opposed to the overexposure of pale pinkness. And it's no secret that black is slimming. You don't really see women wearing almost white opaque hosiery outside of ballet, do you?

Having said that, pink ballet tights are not without advantages. For one, you see more. Muscle tone becomes more visible, and it's easier to correct and maintain proper alignment. You become more aware of your placement. That is why I do wear pink from time to time. Usually, I add black long shorts and a longish black skirt on top. Like I said before, I don't like to look/feel too bare in class. But a couple of weeks ago, I took the plunge. For the duration of barre, I skipped the skirt and extra layers, wearing only my leo, short shorts and those pink tights. Guess what? It wasn't half as bad as I feared. Sure, at first I felt self-conscious. I wish my bottom half would have a more ballerina-esque look. But I worked the pink tights to my advantage. I pulled up, lengthened, stretched, pointed and presented my feet to their max. The unbroken line of ballet pink tights and shoes made my lines look longer. And pretty good, if I may say so.

Practicing my passé retirés (front to back) for the show.
Wearing Danskin tights.

The last time I had worn pink, was for our spring show. I had been gifted a pair of Danskin's "Style 32 Backseam Footed Tights," in a semi-opaque ballet pink. I was told that they look very flattering under stage lights. The weave is such that it lets more of your own skin tone through, and they did make my legs look nicely defined. The backseam was a bit tricky though, I had to make sure it was in a straight line. The waist goes up very high, right under my boobs, and the waistband felt a bit constricting. But it worked well under the thick fabric of my tutu's bodice. So, all in all, a good choice for the stage.

Fresh out of the package. The ribbons, by the way, are still waiting to be sewn. 

My current pair of tights is from Gaynor Minden. I was in fact contacted by one of GM's distributors in Europe, Dancemania, and asked if I would like to try and review some of their Gaynor Minden products. Would I ever! Trying out dance stuff has to be one of my favorite jobs! I made sure that they were looking for an honest review, and then chose some products for my first goody bag ever. So, the tights. They are called Adult Convertible, and are made up of 85% nylon (70 den microfiber) and 15% spandex. I checked the sizing from their chart, and size medium was a perfect fit for me. The waistband could be a bit wider and softer, but I suspect that ballet tights are not made with the average woman in mind. After the first wash, I stretched it out some, and now it fits more comfortably. I have worn and hand-washed the tights for about two weeks now (seven or eight classes), and so far, no snags or runs. The colour is as peachy pink as my Bloch pointe shoes, but pales when you put them on. They are quite opaque (70 den), but I like that they feel a bit more supportive than my usual leggings. The best feature is the convertible opening under the foot. Compared to my Bloch tights, the finish is done with much better attention to durability. At first, I thought the opening was too small and would snag when I rolled it up from under my toes, but it stretched well enough.

After two weeks of wash & wear, the color is a bit paler. But I've never met or seen a pair that doesn't turn from ballet pink to ballet grey, at some point(e). I know you're wondering about the pointe shoes with just the elastics on..
But more about that in a later post!

I have to admit that being asked to test-dance the GM tights gave me the push I needed to step out of my ubiquitous black leggings. I'm not going to ditch them forever (I always have a spare in my bag), but I am going to get more mileage out of my pink ballerina tights. I'm beginning to like how they look on my legs.

First Tutu

Took off my tutu, left the theatre, went home, took the trash out, removed my stage make-up, would have loved a cold beer, drank milk instead and thought: was this already it? So many hours and weekends spent in rehearsals, and then the show was over in an instant. I did well enough, could have done better (there's always room for lots of improvement), but I didn't fall over or forget any steps. Somewhere between the nerves and trying hard not to f*** up, I actually had a moment were everything was just fine. And I'm so pleased with the way our (mostly) adult corps de ballet held its own - it really was a lovely and impressive performance all around.

It was also my first time in a real tutu.

The Wind Beneath My Fingers

I have this one bad ballet habit: my index finger which keeps sticking out like a lightning rod. I call it the pointy pointer. Like with all mannerisms, it's difficult to tell when it began and how it prevailed, but it's damn hard to get rid of. It takes a lot of corrections and reminders to retrain automatic responses. And sometimes it takes a picture to really drive the point home. A friend of mine took this impromptu shot after our last Sunday class of the season. Nothing planned about it, hence the red face (caused by lack of air-conditioning and subtropical temperatures) and no make-up (would have melted away). We were in a hurry, and only took a couple of photographs - not the hundred you would need for one perfect image. Still, I was pretty happy with this one. Had it not been for the pointy finger!

Next class, my teacher took me aside. Which means she gives you a lengthy correction, which you repeat until you get it (half-)right. This time, it was about my fingers. I have repeatedly been told to soften the movement, even to play with my port de bras. I love these kind of instructions, because I want to dance - not just do technical exercises at the barre. Of course I work continuously at improving and refining my technique, but there has to be expression in dance. The fact that I'm still shy about expressing myself in class is, however, a topic for another post.. Back to the index. It's not sticking out all the time, mind you, and I don't dance around with crab hands! But it's there when I tense up, or when I do big jumps with arms in couronne, or when I try too hard.

Yesterday, my teacher told me imagine that my fingers were moving with the wind. It made me think of leaves rustling in the summer breeze, a most welcome sound and sight after a long winter.. Hands and fingers should not be static, but just as alive as the rest of your dancing body. There can be subtle movement, even when you're  holding still. It's something to work on, and I'm looking forward to seeing and feeling the change. Such is ballet: you live, you learn and you dance. With the wind beneath your fingers. 

Ballet de Chat, The Lessons

In the past years, my ballet teacher has often told us to move like cats.. It's an image that has kind of stuck to my mind, and now I cannot help but see ballet in cat photos everywhere. That's how I came up with the "Ballet de Chat -lessons." The photos are from pinterest, and do not belong to me, but all texts were added by myself. The lessons are straight from class, and quite a few are courtesy of Marie-Pierre, our marvellous teacher of the cat move.

Which is your favorite lesson?

My New Alpha Pointe Shoes

My first pair of custom made pointe shoes.. I feel like Cinderella, even though the shoes were not made specifically for me. They were a gift from a friend who no longer dances en pointe, and who knew we have about the same shoe size. Lucky me! I couldn't wait to try the "Alphas" on - maybe I have finally found my perfect match? Custom made or not, traditional pointe shoes can be modified and broken in to fit your feet. Unless, of course, they are way too short/wide/narrow to begin with. But before I did anything that could ruin my new pair, I asked my teacher Marie-Pierre for advice. She told me to bring the shoes to class so that we could fix them together (if possible). A professional shoe-break-in-session, yay!

I was in class early, as we had agreed, and waiting with my shoes and carpet knife. Unfortunately I had forgotten to pack my own, and the knife I borrowed from work seemed much too flimsy. Yes, you read right: a carpet knife is a handy tool for tuning and thinning the sole of your pointe shoes. The Alphas are already pre-cut, but I had also brought my old Balance Europeans which needed some fine-tuning. Just make sure the blade is sharp, and take safety measures. M-P told me how she had once witnessed the soloist prepare her shoes before Giselle's opening night. She was cutting into the leather, when her hand slipped and the knife sliced right into her thigh. So be extra careful, and kids: do not do this at home, and certainly not without adult supervision! But before any sole-slicing, things were about to get even more violent.

Satin cut away from under the box. 

My teacher apologized beforehand, but I had already given her the custody of my shoes. I trust her implicitly, so she could do with them whatever she felt necessary. First, she opened the door and placed the shoe between the hinges. This is how you flatten a too hard/high box (if you know what you're doing). It's also a way to break doors, so watch out.. After the door treatment came the stepping onto shoes. Madame stood on the box with her full ballerina-weight (ask a big guy for more pressure), and then handed the shoe over to me. Oh, and lest I not forget: she checked how the shoes fit my feet before she proceeded to break them in. They were okay length-wise, but felt a bit too narrow across the metatarsal bones. And the box was damn hard on my big toe joint, around the bunion area. After she gave the shoes the ballerina treatment, I was amazed at the result. They fit my feet, I could go on pointe, without pain - and without padding!

The outer sole is of 3/4 quarter length, and the shank has been pre-cut to match. The leather insole is full length for comfort.

That's another thing. Pointe shoes are made to dance in. It's not like wearing stiletto Jimmy Choos and taking the limo to your destination so you only need to cross the red carpet (and kick you shoes off under the table). Of course, pointe shoes are not like wearing sneakers either. There's bound to be some discomfort, certainly at the end of a pointe class. But you cannot have the shoes and dance too. Okay,  not sure if my cake reference is working here... What I mean to say is that pointe shoes are supposed to be an extension of your feet, your technique and your artistry. If you can't articulate your feet in your too hard shoes, what good will that do? Whatever we are doing in soft shoes, we should be able to do in our pointe shoes.

My new shoes are now almost ready. I've sewn on the ribbons, which have a bit of elastic to relieve pressure at the achilles tendon. I've never tried these "elastorib"-ribbons before, and it took me a while to measure the correct placement. The little user's manual tells you how to, and it's really not that complicated. I still need to get elastic ribbons to prevent the heels from slipping off, but that's been a bit trickier. I like to use Bloch's covert elastic, which was sold out last time I checked. I bought Gaynor Minden's similar elastic instead, but I don't like it. The colour doesn't match and it's not wide enough. I called the shop yesterday, and will make a trek there this Sunday (yes, it's open on Sundays). I really want to wear my new shoes next Tuesday. There are only two more classes with M-P before the summer break, and I really prefer her expert guidance.

Elastorib satins from Bloch. Love how the colour matches the shoes. Oh, and they do feel more comfortable. 

Another thing.. These shoes have a much narrower fit than my usual Bloch Balance Europeans (size 6 XX), which means I can't fit my ouch-pouches into them. It's been a while since I've taped my toes, a procedure I have not missed. It's a bit of a hassle, especially if you need to tape them already before your regular class. Feet get sweaty, and tape doesn't always stay in place. I wonder what your experiences are with taping?

I haven't written anything yet about the 3/4 outsole and cut shank design.. They are supposed to help you achieve maximum arch of the foot, and still be supportive enough. My teacher reckons they could work very well on my feet, which are strong but don't have that much of an instep. She's already shown me how to adapt the soles of my old (and current) shoes, so I have some experience with a very bendy shank. I expect first class to be hard on my feet, and I'm defintely bringing my old shoes along if I need to change before pointe class is over. But we will see. The story continues...

Natural Dancer

Vacant eyes, furrowed brows and dead poses.. That doesn't sound like the ballet we all love so much. Yet, most of us have been guilty of committing one or more of the above. I have at times concentrated so hard on my alignment that I was en dehors with my feet but turned in with my expression. So deep inside my own dance-sphere that I forgot my "audience" entirely. Okay, I admit that it's easy to get lost in the music and in the moment, but that abandon should be a joy that's entirely visible to anyone looking. Even if it's only your teacher. Even if she happens to look in the other direction at the precise moment of your wonderful balance, triple pirouette and twinkling eyes. My own teacher always tells us to be generous with our dancing, in both our pliés and our personality. Don't want to look like nobody's at home, now do we?

The dead pose is another trap we sometimes fall into. Thinking "hold" when you should breath and elongate, and most of all, dance. It's so obvious - that's why you're there, to dance. But often there's a tendency to work through exercises, thinking about positions and corrections, pushing and working to get the legs higher, the core stronger, the back longer... And then we forget to dance. Movement becomes artificial, not art in motion. It can be a simple port de bras, a cambré to the side, like we did last time in class (and in every  class before). Our teacher Marie-Pierre was not happy with us. We were being static, like dead statues, when we should have been fluid, continuously in movement. She told us to dance, because if you really dance, ballet looks natural. Yes, ballet with all its unnatural turnout, extreme positions and épaulement dating back to Louis the Great.

Ballet - c'est dur, so hard - and yet we keep coming back for more. Why? It has to be more than work and staying in shape. It's living, breathing, dancing. The feeling of accomplishment when you finally grasp a difficult move, after not giving up. The sense of joy when your body leaps off the ground in a big jeté. The way your arms and fingers and toes become extensions of something bigger, something that can only be expressed through dance. And, finally, that moment when dance has become second nature and you  really are a natural dancer.