Sight: I see myself in the mirror and my extended body in space. I see the other dancers moving around me in lines, planes and circles.
Smell: I smell the dusty, powdery air of rosin and old buildings with sooty window frames. When changing for class, I smell hair spray, the hot smell of blood from pointe shoes and from periods, the minty sickening smell of muscle balm.
Hearing: I hear the clatter of pointe shoes, the thumps of feet landing on the floor, the under-breath curses when a step goes wrong, the commands, “And one, two, three, four AND one, two …” I hear the melodic line of classical music, playing on undeterred through mistakes in the combinations.
Taste: I taste the sweat that has trickled into my mouth, the slight acidic taste of stomach bile from lunch too long ago, the cool, water at the fountain that soothes the sense that I might faint or be sick after the “big jumps.”
Touch: I touch the seams of my mesh tights and adjust them to they are not exactly centered but a little closer to the midline of my body (to give the illusion of the perfect turnout). I touch the satiny ribbons of my shoes and the soft place under my inner ankle bone where I tuck the knot so it’s not seen and will not unravel. I touch the smooth wood of the ballet barre, where there are rough spots and bumps if I feel along the line. I touch the floor with my whole body when stretching before class and with the bottoms of my feet when standing.
Feeling: I feel the rhythm of my heartbeat’s pulse, the thumping of the dancer’s feet on the floor vibrating through me, the tempo of the pianist and the soft thwack of the loud and soft pedals as he plays. I feel the tightening and releasing of my muscles as they extend, contract and expand. I feel the twinges of aches and old injuries and of entering new domains of extension. I feel the tightness of my hair pulled back too hard into a bun, the dull ache of the hairpin that has gone wrong and is sticking into my scalp.
I sense the feel of the room, how I am doing, how the other dancers are doing, what the teacher/director is thinking, who is sad, who elated, who frustrated, who feels hopeful, who feels beyond hope.
Leave a Reply