Ticktock, Time Flys




Ticktock. The time goes. Ticktock. The time flies. Not knowing, unsure and not seen. Not sitting around enjoying the time, the time is pushed to the limit to go by faster. I need to go faster and faster and faster. Stop!


Look at their pretty feet. Look how beautifully they move. Look how they glide across the stage. Look how they fly. Look at the beauty and art of it all.

                                          I want that. I want that!


But, look at me. I've grown too old. I've grown too tall. I've started too late. No muscle memory for me. Not enough strength for me. No hard pointe shoes for me, they say. Ballet, that's no good. Modern. Modern is the way to go. 



Moving on, that's not the way to go. It's not me. That's you. It's my passion. Not yours.


A finger, pointing me into the right direction. Butterflies in my stomach, lights in my eyes, an excitement roaming throughout my body. Help is here. A dance studio with open arms, ready to swallow me whole and ready to welcome me into their world. I jump. This is it! I grab hold.                                                         



It's time... Learn it... Learn it all! In a year, maybe. Two years, definitely!

Pointe your toes, lift your head. Turn out! Turn out! Turn out! Hold your arms. Where’s your head? Lift, from underneath your bottom. Remember the combination! I learned everything as fast as possible. I took every correction to heart. 





                                           Ticktock. It’s less than a year. 

                                                    Pointe shoes? Yes!

                                                 Time for more classes?

                                                  Yes! Don't stop now!


I take every new movement to heart. I will not give up. They hurt. I will not give up. I’m too sore. Perfect! Keep going. Friends, no time. Leave dance? Not a chance. Miss one class? Absolutely not!    


                                        Ticktock. First performance.

                                               Beautiful stage? Yes.

                                 Great choreography, music and story line? Yes.

                                                In a big part? ...No.

                                               Keep going. It’s okay. 

The lights, the adrenalin, the clapping, the music, the dancing, the smiles, the memories and... Stop! It’s over. Wait for next year. No, but... I don't want it to stop. 


                                            Ticktock. It's recital.

                                                Same stage? Yes.

                                           Beautiful costumes? Yes.

                                                 Fun music? Yes.

                                       Same performance feeling? Yes.

                                                     Have fun!


                                Ticktock. The second year is almost up!

                                                  More classes!

More ballet? Yes. Jazz? Sure. Contemporary? Yes. Tap? Why not. Hip hop? Not this time. More pointe classes and shoes? definitely! 


Look how far you've come. You have no idea how fast you've caught up. It's almost impossible. Amazing! You've learned 10 years of training in less than two years!

                                                  Soloist? Soloist. 




Oh no... It's back. But, this time it's in my head. “You're not good enough. Stop getting it wrong! You're too old you haven't trained as much as them.” Oh god. Pressure. 


                                      Pressure, pressure, pressure!



                                                      It's okay.

                                          It's never going to be perfect.

                                           It's okay to not be perfect.


                                                    Deep breath. 



                                                Let's do it again.


                                             Ticktock. It's now.

                                           You're a soloist? Yes.

                                           You have a part? Yes. 

                                           Are you strong? Yes.

        Does age matter? Does it look like it matters when I dance? No. 

                                           Then it doesn't matter.

                                 Have you improved? Tremendously!

                       Still improving? There's always room for improvement.

It's been a blur. Time has passed so fast. It's still passing. But, I don't want it to stop. Keep going. it's going the right way. I'm happy. My dream will soon become a reality.


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