Tag Archives: ballet

dance, dance, dance, and dance

I was fortunate to be given free entrance to a contemporary ballet play staged in the Cultural Center of the Philippines. I watched the performance of artists from the James Cousins Company. Without Stars was a sequel to There We Have Been. These two stories are intertwined, with the first talking about the demises and the little joys in romantic relationships. I was after the second act, There We Have Been, as it was based on the first half of Haruki Murakami’s novel, Norwegian Wood.

The second act made me feel breathless for its entire duration. The female dancer danced while her feet never touched the stage floor. Her ground was the male dancer’s body. Every movement she did was precise, heavy, measured, restrained yet flowing. She had immense control of her center of gravity, and the man provided very solid and fluid ground.

My words cannot give justice to the performance. Watch this preview.

Tagged , , , , ,

dance dance dance

(title borrowed from Haruki Murakami’s novel, Dance, Dance, Dance)

my body is no longer a peaceful part of myself. it hates me. i have stopped giving it sustenance. art that is movement, movement that is art. i have left it to rot in the banalities of dailiness. i have stopped dancing for two semesters. which is to say my limbs have lost their purpose, which is to say my feet drag chains of steel.

somebody said that i don’t have a concept of time, of its linearity. that’s why i am open to starting from the bottom again never mind the years ahead of me, never mind the years past that were devoted to this craft. like carla korbes featured here in a creative video, i sense the lack and the emptiness and the staccato of gracelessness when i miss ballet classes in a row. what more a semester or two? my body slaps me once or twice to rouse me from this sluggishness. thus the surprising tap while gorging on cake, the pinch while i’m about to take a bath. my memory and my body’s memory are at war.

i will never be a ballerina. i am two and a half decades late to fulfill this dream, but i still wish to pursue learning the craft, strengthening my muscles, enduring pain that seeps in the very marrow of my bones. when i am alone with dance, i can lodge my secrets deeper and further. with every jump, push, spin, leap, and twist, fabrics and spaces stretch and yawn open where i deposit my secrets. my secrets are like the twelve dancing princesses. once they are barred from dancing, life slips away. which is to say dance is as close to my spirit as poetry and music. which is to say the things that keep me alive make noise, claim silence, and straddle life with gestures. which is to say now is the time to move, move as if my very life depends on it. which is to say Yes, it does.

Tagged ,

hands, feet, rhyme, rhythm

(copyright 2011 So You Think You Can Dance)

There are rare times that I wish that I were more devoted to dance than to poetry. There are rare times that I would fantasize about my life taking a different route. What if I did not join the Creative Writers’ Guild in high school and opted to be part of the Dance Club? What if I did not focus on the kids from the orphanages in college and focused more on winning a slot in a dance organization (read: What if I decided to become selfish?)? What if I’d known about Makiling School for the Arts just in time for my mother to consider enrolling me?

I would probably be dancing now, and at night, I would be writing about my frustrations, the choreography, the weightlessness I would feel from a routine. Aaaaaand see here! I go back to writing even as I fantasize about dancing. I am doomed to remain Writing’s mistress forever.

Tagged , , , , , , , ,

ill but dancing within

That’s basically what I feel now. I have light fever and feet that are cold but catching this dance routine from SYTYCD season 7 All-Stars perked me up.

Choreographed by Desmond Richardson and Dwight Rhoden, this number has Melissa Etheridge’s Fearless Love (another huge plus!!) as its track. Crazy bad number that made my arms crawl with goose bumps! Three — the minimum number of jete I counted in this routine.

Desmond Richardson is a beast on stage and is known to be a sweet guy by other dancers and fans who have met him. Indeed, it’s magical when an artist creates an opus for another artist to render.

Here are Complexions pieces courtesy of artistic directors Desmond Richardson and Dwight Rhoden.

Here’s another from SYTYCD season 4 with my other fave Katee dancing with Will for a pas de deux number courtesy of Dwight and Desmond.

Tagged , , , , , , , , ,

Video of a ballerina

This was one of Yahoo’s featured videos of the day. The little girl’s attempts are too cute for words as she tries to do a turnout of her feet. Even her hands are set at an awkward angle. Such a baby!

Watch the video here > http://comedy.video.yahoo.com/?v=8773551

Tagged , , ,

just for now

i have a handout to read, some photos to go over for a magazine deadline, and that handout again that’s just an intro to cultural studies, but hell, every other sentence causes my nose to bleed. i know i have a short attention span, but what do you ought to feel when, after reading a long sentence, you punctuate it with this observation, “Nose bleed”? Heh. I try, as Macy Gray would sing, but I stumble!


i have a new indie addiction, and i just downloaded her songs last night (yes, while clutching that handout). i’m excited to listen to her songs over and over again. and oh, i’ve started building my playlist out on youtube, and she&him is there along with asobi seksu and lenka.


i discovered a new book sale near our place, but definitely, i won’t go there on my own. the place just bears the promise of countless sexual harassment moments. got myself a sylvia plath book. the bell jar. i know, i know, it’s a disgrace to own a copy this late. forgive me.


the weather is just schizo. i like it. ambiguity. it rains, then the sun becomes relentless, and the day goes humid. ambiguity takes a walk on the rain, after alunsina.


You have deactivated your Facebook account. You can reactivate your account at any time by logging into Facebook using your old login email and password. You will be able to use the site like you used to.

The Facebook Team

Dear Facebook Team,

Like I used to? What are you talking about? I never applied for a Facebook account.


i tried to rise on my toes as if i were wearing pointe shoes. ouch, but a delicious ouch. try it to see how pain solidifies.


can’t wait to share with you my quick photos of fire trees. now that summer’s starting to give us her farewell spiel, i have to immortalize these lovely creatures here. soon.


i have to go back to the drawing boards. but i’m sure my little eva (she’s my alternate ego; like watterson’s calvin, only she has a wormy for hobbes) will find numerous ways to distract me.

Tagged , ,

a pointe of view

I was on the second floor, my chin resting on my arm. At the first floor studio, advanced dancers were practicing sets with their pointe shoes on. This shoe type enables ballet dancers to rise up and maintain balance on their toes to appear taller, nimbler and weightless. The girls must have been in their early teens to mid-teens, and I knew they must have started primary ballet in their childhood years.

Ballerinas reach this stage after years, for some even a decade or more. It depends on one’s strength and dedication and last but not least, to pain tolerance.

I am enrolled in an adult ballet class for beginners. Stress on the phrase ‘for beginners’. My dream to move and dance like a ballerina is but a seed kept in a recycled shoe box. I take it out thrice a week and polish it until it catches the noon light. I know I will spend hours, days, weeks, months and years nurturing this seed.

Just yesterday, I learned how to do a spin (yes, I forgot the French term for this). My brain is jogged every ballet session recalling warm-up exercises. I have a bad memory, but just look at me absorb choreography-it’s like teaching driving skills to a lamp post.

There are routines I begin to dislike after a period. But there are routines that I cherish. Like cleaning the bathroom every so often. Or taking out the trash. I am praying my ballet routine becomes part of me as if it were my new skin. Regardless of pain. Regardless of memory lapses. Regardless of the commute. Regardless of the racket my muscles make the morning after a session. Regardless of the questioning look I get from others when they learn I am taking up ballet.

Maybe when I reach that point when I appear weightless, I may feel the birth of flight in me.

Listening now to: Feist’s I Feel It All
Mood: Grateful

Tagged , ,