So, I am three weeks in to classes at my new school, and, dare I say it? I am actually catching on pretty quick. That's right ladies and gents, despite seven months of not dancing, of dancing in a room that feels like an oven, no week time or place to practice, having resigned myself to dancing with five year olds, my having gotten bigger and my thighs getting wobblier, I have learned the majority of both steps of my Reel, Jig and Hornpipe in three classes.THEE dances in three weeks folks.
All the changes haven't been bad. Despite having always struggled with the Hornpipe, I have both steps reasonably enough learned that I am now also learning my directions on it. The hardest part of all my new steps is that the mechanics are all the same as the old steps, but in different order, or spliced together differently. So, I am trucking along in my reel, and all of a sudden, I am doing the old step. Aggravating, but not a huge deal.
In other news, I have indulged a bit. However a brand new, super-whamadine sports busten-halter can be justified as a need. It only took me months of tralling the Victoria's Secret Website, waiting for it to be in stock and for a good coupon. I know, maybe this is all verging onto TMI, but as an adult irish dancer, good support is a big freaking deal. I can now say, to all the other grown up dancers over a B cup who can never really find a bra that works, I can totally recommend the VSX Pro Sports Bra. It's pricy but worth it. Not only does it provide great support without having to wear 2 traditional sports tops with it, it doesn't created the ever dreaded uni-boob as it has a built in underwire. It's super soft, breaths amazingly well, and isn't a FREAKING RACER BACK! I hate Racer back sports bras. This clips in the back and has straps that are just a little more heavy duty then a regular bra.
Next spoil might need to be new hard shoes. Mine are in perfect shape, but that's just the thing, 11 year old dance shoes should NOT be in perfect shape. This might be why no one wears the tan soled hards any more. I tried on some of the Fay's black soled at Celtic Fling Feis, at Irish Dance Outfitter's stand, and brand new they felt emphatically more flexible then my current beasts. Also, the chiseled toe was wider and flatter, which would make those toe stands easier once I get back there. It's not a need though, and unfortunatly, being adult, as always, means budgeting. I wonder if one of the new Boyne Walk Curves could count as a need???
So, I guess that's it for now. No big news, sorry gang. Have decided that an Irish Dance themed novel sounds like a good idea however.
We shall see I suppose. Will keep you posted
Monday, July 23, 2012
Monday, April 9, 2012
Grant me the serenity . . .
So I had a sickening 'realization' last night.
A solo dress that I had fallen in love with went back up for sale again on dd.net. A solo dress that should actually fit me and isn't disgustingly overpriced. And then it hit me. I haven't danced since December. I wasn't making any leaps and bounds to moving up in levels even before then. The need for a solo dress has never been so far away. And then I had this sickening feeling that I might never dance again.
I knew when I took this job, that despite all the talk of dance schools in the area, that there was a good chance that I wasn't going to be home enough to even bother trying to start classes once we moved. I tried to be positive about it, but that fear was always there. But still, I moved and took the job, cause well - it's a good job, in this economy that everyone is always complaining about, and because it did really seem like the right move for Himself and I. And last night, I went to bed with the knot in my stomach, that this might really be it - time to give up the childhood dream, and accept that I won't get to finish this out. Work and adult life is getting to be too much
But I still wept when a dance school paraded past at an event I was working at. I still find myself practicing my Treble Jig in the elevator, or in the grocery store, in really anywhere that I find a bit of floorspace. I still find myself cruising dd.net for any deals on a pair of dance sneakers to practice in, even though I haven't practiced in three months. I still haunt my old school's facebook page, soaking in every status update and picture, wishing I was still a part of it all.
So, it's decision time. Is this one of those things I can't change that I need to accept, or do I need the courage to keep pushing? Will I be able to live with myself if I let go, and just let Irish Dance be something I love from afar, but not be part of my life?
A solo dress that I had fallen in love with went back up for sale again on dd.net. A solo dress that should actually fit me and isn't disgustingly overpriced. And then it hit me. I haven't danced since December. I wasn't making any leaps and bounds to moving up in levels even before then. The need for a solo dress has never been so far away. And then I had this sickening feeling that I might never dance again.
I knew when I took this job, that despite all the talk of dance schools in the area, that there was a good chance that I wasn't going to be home enough to even bother trying to start classes once we moved. I tried to be positive about it, but that fear was always there. But still, I moved and took the job, cause well - it's a good job, in this economy that everyone is always complaining about, and because it did really seem like the right move for Himself and I. And last night, I went to bed with the knot in my stomach, that this might really be it - time to give up the childhood dream, and accept that I won't get to finish this out. Work and adult life is getting to be too much
But I still wept when a dance school paraded past at an event I was working at. I still find myself practicing my Treble Jig in the elevator, or in the grocery store, in really anywhere that I find a bit of floorspace. I still find myself cruising dd.net for any deals on a pair of dance sneakers to practice in, even though I haven't practiced in three months. I still haunt my old school's facebook page, soaking in every status update and picture, wishing I was still a part of it all.
So, it's decision time. Is this one of those things I can't change that I need to accept, or do I need the courage to keep pushing? Will I be able to live with myself if I let go, and just let Irish Dance be something I love from afar, but not be part of my life?
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Goodbye blue skirt!
So, it was time to return all costume rentals, seeing as the dance year is at a close. I should be more sentimental, I suppose. I was sooo excited all those months to get it. Now . . . not so much. I wish I could pass it off as knowing that I *could* get it back in January during the costume exchange. But I won't be there. Blame it on the leotard. Grown-ass women should not wear skin tight black leotards if they area over 115ilbs. Still, I loved it and it shall be missed. . . .
In other news, class last night was great. I only had to explain my feis boo-boo twice, and I pushed really hard on my steps. Or tried too. I'm pretty sure that the entire room thought I was a complete IDIOT when all of a sudden my hornpipe was completely gone. But I console myself with the fact that my hornpipe rhythm was finally sounding right. This doesn't sound like much, but I have long suspected that has been my major hang up with that darned step. I could never seem to get the timing down right, so it made it impossible to really be able to get my steps to flow correctly, and then when I would screw up, finding the step again was right out. But on the drive home I was drilling the steps in my head, and they finally were coming right, out of my mouth. Now it's just translating that to my feet.
Reel practice went better. I've got 90% of my reel nailed. It used to be 99%, but ever since the new slip jig step, I've been "and-skip-and-skip-step-leap down"ing, instead of "and-skip-and-skip-HOP-FRONT-CLICK"ing. I know which I am SUPPOSED to be doing, and I know that I am doing it wrong, but I seem incapable of changing it. So, must work on that
I am trying, really trying to not get into a bad mentality, what with this move. Part of me just wants to shrug off really trying more on these steps, knowing that I will have to start learning all news ones come January. But I KNOW that is a bad mentality to get into. It would just be a waste, a waste of all I had learned so far, a waste of my current school's time and eventually, a waste of my new school's time, cause lets face it, once I would get into that mental place, I wouldn't leave it quickly. And I have been too lackadaisical with my practicing for this past year as is, and I refuse to just become a hobby-ist.
Work tonight, Thanksgiving next week. Christmas there after, birthday to follow shortly in January, then an interstate move . . . busy days, busy days . . .
Slan!
In other news, class last night was great. I only had to explain my feis boo-boo twice, and I pushed really hard on my steps. Or tried too. I'm pretty sure that the entire room thought I was a complete IDIOT when all of a sudden my hornpipe was completely gone. But I console myself with the fact that my hornpipe rhythm was finally sounding right. This doesn't sound like much, but I have long suspected that has been my major hang up with that darned step. I could never seem to get the timing down right, so it made it impossible to really be able to get my steps to flow correctly, and then when I would screw up, finding the step again was right out. But on the drive home I was drilling the steps in my head, and they finally were coming right, out of my mouth. Now it's just translating that to my feet.
Reel practice went better. I've got 90% of my reel nailed. It used to be 99%, but ever since the new slip jig step, I've been "and-skip-and-skip-step-leap down"ing, instead of "and-skip-and-skip-HOP-FRONT-CLICK"ing. I know which I am SUPPOSED to be doing, and I know that I am doing it wrong, but I seem incapable of changing it. So, must work on that
I am trying, really trying to not get into a bad mentality, what with this move. Part of me just wants to shrug off really trying more on these steps, knowing that I will have to start learning all news ones come January. But I KNOW that is a bad mentality to get into. It would just be a waste, a waste of all I had learned so far, a waste of my current school's time and eventually, a waste of my new school's time, cause lets face it, once I would get into that mental place, I wouldn't leave it quickly. And I have been too lackadaisical with my practicing for this past year as is, and I refuse to just become a hobby-ist.
Work tonight, Thanksgiving next week. Christmas there after, birthday to follow shortly in January, then an interstate move . . . busy days, busy days . . .
Slan!
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Not so much a bang, More of a whimper
Never. Will I. Ever. Overestimate my ability to read a stage schedule. EVER AGAIN.
I had good hopes for this one. I was aiming for bronze. Sure, I wanted golds, but I would have been happy with bronze.
I keep telling myself that it just wasn't supposed to be. That there was a reason I didn't get there in time to dance. Maybe I would have broken a leg, or accidentally kicked some girl in the teeth (well, maybe not the teeth, I think that is overstating my kicking abilities)
It seemed reasonable. The Feis started at nine. There were about ten dances before my first one. Most of them had around 15 dancers in it and the Syllabus said dancers were dancing 2 at a time. So I figured being there right at nine would just be an exercise in hurry up and wait. Rush to get out of the door at dawn. Wait in rush hour traffic. Rush to get parking and get my number and get a spot to camp out with my stuff (we dancers couldn't LIVE if we didn't have piles of stuff). Wait until it's my turn to dance. I thought I was being smart. Get some extra sleep so I feel top notch, leave a little later, and get there right in time for my first dance.
I'll leave being smart to the Ravenclaws from now on. I'm clearly not as good at it as I'd like to be. Needless to say, I was a little irritated, while looking down the stage list and I saw I missed my reel. That was my sure bet. A little cheesed about slip jig, but that second step I still didn't have entirely smoothed out, so no biggie. Treble Jig and Hornpipe are both crossed out too? Well, at least I won't embarrass myself up there with a bunch of nimble fifteen year olds. . . .
This was supposed to be the high note I went out on, before my exit to the mid-west. This was the feis that I wanted to do my school proud in. The one that would live on, once I'm long gone, of the Adult who went to a feis, competed against kids half her age and wiped the floor with them. Granted even if I had gotten there in time, I still wasn't going to be THAT good, but I could have taken pride in the fact that I went and I represented.
As it was, I felt even more disconnected wandering around that crowded feis then I usually do. Every one there knows what they are doing, and I am wandering around, lost, doing my best impersonation of someone who belongs there, but all the while not having a clue. I just felt like the awkward, fat adult dancer that's never really going to get it right.
That feeling will pass. I will get the determination and the drive back. I will stop beating myself up over this at some point . . . maybe by about Wednesday. But, for tonight at least, I am going to drown my low self confidence in peach ice cream and sweet, milky tea.
I had good hopes for this one. I was aiming for bronze. Sure, I wanted golds, but I would have been happy with bronze.
I keep telling myself that it just wasn't supposed to be. That there was a reason I didn't get there in time to dance. Maybe I would have broken a leg, or accidentally kicked some girl in the teeth (well, maybe not the teeth, I think that is overstating my kicking abilities)
It seemed reasonable. The Feis started at nine. There were about ten dances before my first one. Most of them had around 15 dancers in it and the Syllabus said dancers were dancing 2 at a time. So I figured being there right at nine would just be an exercise in hurry up and wait. Rush to get out of the door at dawn. Wait in rush hour traffic. Rush to get parking and get my number and get a spot to camp out with my stuff (we dancers couldn't LIVE if we didn't have piles of stuff). Wait until it's my turn to dance. I thought I was being smart. Get some extra sleep so I feel top notch, leave a little later, and get there right in time for my first dance.
I'll leave being smart to the Ravenclaws from now on. I'm clearly not as good at it as I'd like to be. Needless to say, I was a little irritated, while looking down the stage list and I saw I missed my reel. That was my sure bet. A little cheesed about slip jig, but that second step I still didn't have entirely smoothed out, so no biggie. Treble Jig and Hornpipe are both crossed out too? Well, at least I won't embarrass myself up there with a bunch of nimble fifteen year olds. . . .
This was supposed to be the high note I went out on, before my exit to the mid-west. This was the feis that I wanted to do my school proud in. The one that would live on, once I'm long gone, of the Adult who went to a feis, competed against kids half her age and wiped the floor with them. Granted even if I had gotten there in time, I still wasn't going to be THAT good, but I could have taken pride in the fact that I went and I represented.
As it was, I felt even more disconnected wandering around that crowded feis then I usually do. Every one there knows what they are doing, and I am wandering around, lost, doing my best impersonation of someone who belongs there, but all the while not having a clue. I just felt like the awkward, fat adult dancer that's never really going to get it right.
That feeling will pass. I will get the determination and the drive back. I will stop beating myself up over this at some point . . . maybe by about Wednesday. But, for tonight at least, I am going to drown my low self confidence in peach ice cream and sweet, milky tea.
Friday, November 11, 2011
Feis Week
Coyle feis is in two days. Dance performance for an estimated crowd of 500 the night before. Am I ready? SURRRRE.
Actually, I would feel alot better about this weekend if it weren't for two things. First, my shins have been in SCREAMING pain since about Monday. I'm not sure what shin splints feel like, but I hope this is not them. At least, not until next monday, that's all I ask. One more week to abuse my body in the name of my art, and then I can go back to slacking off a little bit. I think my dance bag will be mostly occupied with various forms of painkillers and anti-inflams if I am to survive. Secondly, I had thought I had signed up for Reel, Slip Jig, Treble Jig and Light Jig. But I didn't. I signed up for Reel, Slip Jig, Treble Jig and Hornpipe. And here, two weeks ago, I told my TC, like the tool-bag that I am, that I wasn't doing hornpipe, so we didn't drill that as much. *insert expletive here*
I am kind of excited though. There are four dancers total in my comps. Four is good! It's not the fifteen dancers at Four Provinces, and it's not just me and one other girl like at Celtic Fling. I can handle four. I just hope I don't place fourth. That would kind of suck. Dear God, may I please beat at least ONE person? Kthanxbai .. . .
In other news - I think I have found my new dance school. I mean, it's still pending a class visit and all, but I really like them. And, surprisingly, they are not the one's who had the most impressive website. But the TC actually emailed me back . . . like within a few hours . . . answered all my questoins, seemed friendly and helpful. Add that into the fact that they have a location LITERALLY ten minutes down the road from where I will be at, and that they have super cute/traditional school dresses, and I think I am in love. Furthermore, there was absolutely no hesitation when I mentioned "adult advanced beginner" and "competing in &overs". According to the email I got back, their adult class is made up from a pretty much even mix of older rec dancers and younger former retirees who were getting back into competition. Sounds like it should be a good fit. Now I just need to find an apartment, a church, a favorite cafe and a hobby for the boyfriend - but that would be a different blog's conversation.
Thats it for now I guess. Need to think about getting read for work soon.
Cheers,
Meara
Actually, I would feel alot better about this weekend if it weren't for two things. First, my shins have been in SCREAMING pain since about Monday. I'm not sure what shin splints feel like, but I hope this is not them. At least, not until next monday, that's all I ask. One more week to abuse my body in the name of my art, and then I can go back to slacking off a little bit. I think my dance bag will be mostly occupied with various forms of painkillers and anti-inflams if I am to survive. Secondly, I had thought I had signed up for Reel, Slip Jig, Treble Jig and Light Jig. But I didn't. I signed up for Reel, Slip Jig, Treble Jig and Hornpipe. And here, two weeks ago, I told my TC, like the tool-bag that I am, that I wasn't doing hornpipe, so we didn't drill that as much. *insert expletive here*
I am kind of excited though. There are four dancers total in my comps. Four is good! It's not the fifteen dancers at Four Provinces, and it's not just me and one other girl like at Celtic Fling. I can handle four. I just hope I don't place fourth. That would kind of suck. Dear God, may I please beat at least ONE person? Kthanxbai .. . .
In other news - I think I have found my new dance school. I mean, it's still pending a class visit and all, but I really like them. And, surprisingly, they are not the one's who had the most impressive website. But the TC actually emailed me back . . . like within a few hours . . . answered all my questoins, seemed friendly and helpful. Add that into the fact that they have a location LITERALLY ten minutes down the road from where I will be at, and that they have super cute/traditional school dresses, and I think I am in love. Furthermore, there was absolutely no hesitation when I mentioned "adult advanced beginner" and "competing in &overs". According to the email I got back, their adult class is made up from a pretty much even mix of older rec dancers and younger former retirees who were getting back into competition. Sounds like it should be a good fit. Now I just need to find an apartment, a church, a favorite cafe and a hobby for the boyfriend - but that would be a different blog's conversation.
Thats it for now I guess. Need to think about getting read for work soon.
Cheers,
Meara
Monday, October 10, 2011
New Feis, last feis?
I registered for a feis in November. It's a good way off and I am really hoping I follow through with my practice goals so I can actually place and deserve it. Especially as it might be my last feis for a while. At very least, most likely to be my last feis with my school, which makes me insurmountably sad. I love my school, but I cannot, in all good reason, decide to stay here in PA when there is no job or options here, just for my dance school. A job, a house, a whole life is waiting for me in OH, and a new dance school, which maybe I will love as much, but I somehow doubt it. This is how much I love my school - when I asked my TC if for the three months over the summer that I will be back in state for work after I move, if I may still come to class, just so I can stay in shape, she didn't even hesitate to say "of course" and upped the anty by telling me that they would just drill my new steps with me, rather then try to teach me their steps. <3 x a million. It's that sort of kindness that I can't help but love. . .
Once again, I can't help but juxtapose this situation with how it would be if I were a younger dancer. Moving to another state would be the end of the world as I knew it, and not just in regards to dance class. As an adult, it's just the start of a whole new world, and just then end to a chapter.
At any rate, I am nervous about going to a new school. Nervous that they won't be as nice, that they won't be as patient with me. Nervous that I won't have such cool people in my class. But at the same time there is always hope. New beginnings always have hope.
So, here we go gang, count down to the next feis
Coyle Feis, T-minus 35 days
Once again, I can't help but juxtapose this situation with how it would be if I were a younger dancer. Moving to another state would be the end of the world as I knew it, and not just in regards to dance class. As an adult, it's just the start of a whole new world, and just then end to a chapter.
At any rate, I am nervous about going to a new school. Nervous that they won't be as nice, that they won't be as patient with me. Nervous that I won't have such cool people in my class. But at the same time there is always hope. New beginnings always have hope.
So, here we go gang, count down to the next feis
Coyle Feis, T-minus 35 days
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Solo Dresses
Disclaimer; I am 2 levels away from earning a solo dress. I am also coming off a month's sabbatical from class, and will be moving to another state in an other three months - all things delaying me getting to a solo dress anytime soon. But I write this blog post anyway, cause I can, cause it's my blog. So ha-ha, deal with it..
I don't get these new dresses. I really don't. Call my old school, call me narrow minded, but if I had wanted to wear a tutu, I would have joined ballet. And ruffles? Really? Are we going to a feis or to a barn dance?
Now, don't get me wrong, I have seen some super modern, ruffled/cupcake/plisse/ra-ra skirted, asymmetrical dresses that are rather pretty. And I am not entirely against the whole soft skirt movement. But here is what is holding me up. I fell in love with Irish dance dresses, when I fell in love with the dance itself. The gorgeous Celtic knotwork, the elegant pleats and panels that seem to flow with the dance. You just don't get the same movement ascetic with a puffball as you do with a panel.
But I will be the first to admit, the drab dark velvets had to go. But did the whole Irish Dance world have to go from one extreme to another. Neon? Really? This isn't the early 1990's anymore, day-glo is no longer in . . .
In some ways, I envy highland dancers. A dancer cannot be looked down upon because her dress is 'outdated' cause, well, they are all wearing the same style, give or take. And this isn't about "tradition" cause I know as well as anyone else, that the style of dresses I prefer isn't that historical and that ID dresses have been ever-evolving. But when did they start evolving into these eyesores, that we sit by and call pretty?
I am convinced, now, more then ever that the world of Irish dance dresses needs me. I have a notebook full of drawings that I would live to be able to make come to life. There has to be a happy compromise. Modern fabrics and bright colours, with out loosing touch with the roots. Keep something IRISH looking about the dresses. Maybe with all this free time I have on my hands with my new-found unemployment, I could start experimenting. Now if only I could find somebody interested in being a test subject, since I am not ready to have a dress of my own yet.
All I know is when I get the okay to have a solo, the drawing is ready, waiting to come to life. And when I get up on stage I KNOW my dress will stand out - not because it's a brighter shade of orange then the next girls, not because it is covered in rhinestones, not because the skirt is fluffier - but because it will be simple and elegant, and flattering and there won't be anything even possibly close to animal print or stretch velvet near it! And God forbid! There will be knotwork on it. Traditional Irish art that has meaning for me and represents who I am. And who I am is not represented by a butt-bow and tulle.
I don't get these new dresses. I really don't. Call my old school, call me narrow minded, but if I had wanted to wear a tutu, I would have joined ballet. And ruffles? Really? Are we going to a feis or to a barn dance?
Now, don't get me wrong, I have seen some super modern, ruffled/cupcake/plisse/ra-ra skirted, asymmetrical dresses that are rather pretty. And I am not entirely against the whole soft skirt movement. But here is what is holding me up. I fell in love with Irish dance dresses, when I fell in love with the dance itself. The gorgeous Celtic knotwork, the elegant pleats and panels that seem to flow with the dance. You just don't get the same movement ascetic with a puffball as you do with a panel.
But I will be the first to admit, the drab dark velvets had to go. But did the whole Irish Dance world have to go from one extreme to another. Neon? Really? This isn't the early 1990's anymore, day-glo is no longer in . . .
In some ways, I envy highland dancers. A dancer cannot be looked down upon because her dress is 'outdated' cause, well, they are all wearing the same style, give or take. And this isn't about "tradition" cause I know as well as anyone else, that the style of dresses I prefer isn't that historical and that ID dresses have been ever-evolving. But when did they start evolving into these eyesores, that we sit by and call pretty?
I am convinced, now, more then ever that the world of Irish dance dresses needs me. I have a notebook full of drawings that I would live to be able to make come to life. There has to be a happy compromise. Modern fabrics and bright colours, with out loosing touch with the roots. Keep something IRISH looking about the dresses. Maybe with all this free time I have on my hands with my new-found unemployment, I could start experimenting. Now if only I could find somebody interested in being a test subject, since I am not ready to have a dress of my own yet.
All I know is when I get the okay to have a solo, the drawing is ready, waiting to come to life. And when I get up on stage I KNOW my dress will stand out - not because it's a brighter shade of orange then the next girls, not because it is covered in rhinestones, not because the skirt is fluffier - but because it will be simple and elegant, and flattering and there won't be anything even possibly close to animal print or stretch velvet near it! And God forbid! There will be knotwork on it. Traditional Irish art that has meaning for me and represents who I am. And who I am is not represented by a butt-bow and tulle.
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