Dim sunlight through construction paper shades. Scarred gym hardwood floors. Generic stiff folding chairs. Yellow frosted cupcakes and sugar cookies on the fold out table. The general sensiblities of a church auditorium at secular Rosedale Hall.
This was the scene for your first dance recital. The first of many to come, I’m sure.
On a warm August morning, your Mom, Matteo and I attended the capstone event for your Disney ballet camp. Your class walked out behind teachers, found your painter’s tape spots on the floor and awaited the track from “Tangled.” The teachers flanked the room, only slightly out of sight from the parent audience.
Once the music started, the class moved in a slightly coordinated wave mimicking the choreography of the dancing teachers.
You were in the corner of the room opposite us (bad seat selection on our part), but found us with your gaze. You appeared small but also well prepared with your hair pulled back in two buns and pink leotard and skirt matching pink ballet shoes. You danced our direction with poise and confidence and aware of each movement you were making next. It was 90 seconds of sheer delight for artist and audience.
I am biased but have to say that you crushed that routine and the teachers said as much after the show. They gave you a congratulatory rose and encouraged us to sign you up for a next session with an older age group. You wore a deserved halo of pride the following hour while scarfing down a cupcake and leaving yellow frosting where you earlier wore kid lipstick.
You are often happeist and always calmest, zen-like, when you are creating some kind of art be it music, dance and certainly drawing. Keep that in mind when you’re feeling stuck or challenged: go back to art.
Selfishly, I hope you stick to a little more dance. The events are fun. I absolutely despised them as a kid, attending your Aunt Nina’s hours-long dance recitals. Maybe Matteo will feel the same eventually (he liked this event) but that’s the difference between being a young brother and a dad: tolerance versus support.
I’m always here to support your art!
Love, Dad