I'm that little girl right about now - sitting under the shadow of the beautiful ballerina statue with graceful lines and a perfect arabesque. Yes, I've taken up ballet again, one of my late-in-life discoveries that I've dabbled in for the past few years. Luckily, I once again have an absolutely phenomenal teacher. She makes all the difference. Joan is the teacher I always wished to have and, from stories that other dancers have told me, her kind are few and far between. So now I bask in Joan's light twice a week for two hours and can already feel the muscle memory kicking in and my positions improving. It's glorious.
There's the well-perpetrated idea that you always remember a great teacher. That's one of the little mottos that Andy and I always encourage each other with as he continues on the path towards teacher-dom. Having Joan reminds me that this is true. Having Joan even might make me brave enough to pick up another class in between to move towards the goal that has yet to be realized, the dream that has continued to elude me and that I now refuse to slack on - my own pointe shoes.