Though all my days-- no matter how great-- are tinged with sadness as of late, today is a beautiful day filled with Persian verbs past and present, the youthful feelings of Rostov in War & Peace, and a foamy cappuccino from La Colombe.
The evening, by contrast, wiled itself away in tango fashion, only in reverse. I offered to be a leader for this class because there were way too many women as usual. I realized I loved learning how to lead, how to use the connection between my left hand and her spine to "convince" her to carry out an ocho, to use my spine and not the force of my hands to lead the ocho.
Through ballet and tango, I am learning that no matter the dance, the true source of movement and balance is the spine; arms and legs-- though they are the most visible, freely moving features of the human body-- are more often than not auxiliary. Learning to lead and alternatively being used by Andres as a follower during demonstrations gave me a great sense of what is expected by and of both sides. If I were ever to teach tango, I would make everybody learn both the leader and follower parts.
After this great lesson, I came home, stuffed myself with carrots (I think my metabolism is still kicking strong from the race yesterday), then slowly made my way up the stairs. As I approached my room on the third floor, the damp, musty smell of summer grew stronger and stronger, and I welcomed it. It's the smell of freedom, of college, of Korea even.
I am sad because of the sudden vanishing of ballet at Symmetry from my life, and this makes me nostalgic. Though there is still hope, even the tiny possibility that it might never come back leaves me with a constant ache. However, I'm slowly, forcibly coming to terms with this worst-case scenario, and am currently making plans to either go abroad again or start a Master's program this fall.
We shall see where this goes.
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