Suck in your stomach; not like that you still have to be able to breath; shoulders down so that your neck looks longer; straighten your knees so that they are almost always touching; point your foot but don’t curl your toes; my foot is cramping; I don’t care, just work through the pain; get lower down in your split; make sure your stomach can touch the floor; do I see fat rolls; gel your hair back so none of it gets in your face; make your hands beautiful; have your elbows be higher than your hands; this is effacé; this is criosé; this is avant; this is écarté; don’t sickle your foot; this is épaulment imagine that someone is kissing your cheek; keep going, you won’t be able to leave until it is perfect; ballet is not for girls who have curves; get your leg higher; you should be sweating by now; use your toes to jump higher; see how olivia does it?; I cannot do that; I don’t care, just work through it; roll through your feet; get on your box; make it look easy, the audience isn’t paying to see you in pain; the girls at SAB are already doing doubles, don’t let them be better than you; I am trying my hardest; I don't care.
Link to original poem:
http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/1978/06/26/girl
This is about dance, more specifically about the aspect of it that pushes you to the limit. Although this was supposed to be about grammar and commonly confused words, I did not thoroughly read the assignment and wrote this instead! Dance is what I know best. I have been doing it for most of my life. I hope to be as knowledgable about grammar as I am about dance.
No comments:
Post a Comment