Passageways

Monday evening, I stepped into the stairwell leading to the studio and sighed with happiness. Too many days had passed since I'd seen these dirty khaki-colored stairs and bare walls. I began the ritualistic climb up the stairs, and happily rid myself of the delusion that I had a life and purpose outside of ballet-- a lie I've been telling myself for the past ten days. Piano music drifted down from the studio. I noted that the painting of the T-rex exhilaratingly riding a bike against a purple background was still propped against the wall on the second landing. The tree we had used for the Nutcracker production stood nearby unornamented. After the second set of stairs, I followed the cranes the rest of the way into the studio, a world of its own. Passageways, doors and frames create the feeling of going on a journey, or leaving one world and entering another.