Kids Continue to be Hilarious

Happy Friday everyone!

adimiceli_tutus copy

Photo courtesy of Dance Arts Project 

It’s a beautiful day out in the Bay Area today and I’ve been wanting to do a follow-up on my previous post for a while now. TGIF everyone!

 I actually have a surplus of these gems, so don’t be surprised if you happen upon a Part III and IV within the next few months. I’m going to begin with some of the more recent things that have come out of my students mouths these past weeks. I can honestly say that some of these occurred all at once, within the same class. It’s like the little ones know whatever they’re saying is infinitely amusing to the adults, so they just keep talking. There seems to have been a recent bout of illness going around the dancing school, so when inquiring about the health of another little girl in class, one randomly volunteers this  information:

“You know what?!” (This is generally the premise for something exciting, is it not?) “I threw up right in my bed last night!”

Lovely. We then checked to make sure she wasn’t feeling like throwing up on the dancefloor anytime soon. She wasn’t. Following this discussion of everyone’s general health, we somehow strayed upon the topic of babies. You know, the kind mommy and daddy go “pick up” from the hospital. The point was made that Miss Eva does not have any little brothers or sisters, but she does have a kitty-cat. A little one piped up:

“My landlord says that we can’t have any dogs or cats, we can only get more kids….”

Because of course that’s how it works. Little brother= stand in for the puppy I really wanted.

Chatting about babies with young children is always amusing. That is, of course, until one of them asks you if you’re pregnant. Irked,  I replied: “Do I look pregnant to you?” They suddenly realized that they had made a horrible mistake in asking me this question. You can’t really blame them, though. The world and everything it contains is such a hard concept to grasp.

Some of my slightly older girls seem to have recently come across the notion that there is a correct and incorrect way of referring to people of different ethnicities:

“My friend, she’s Vietnamese, but… she looks Asian”  (The latter part of this sentence was whispered, I’m assuming in fear of being politically incorrect.) I assured her that Vietnam is, in fact, a country in Asia, therefore her friend is Asian. 

Some children seem to miss this mark altogether. When asked what she was going to be for Halloween one year, a student once responded:

“I’m gonna be a Chinese girl!” 

The actual Chinese girls in the room did not find this to be a valid costume. We do not live in Missouri in the 1950s, we are in California, a state diverse enough to know that dressing up stereotypically as some of our “exotic” classmates is a little inappropriate.

We do our best to educate them. We teach them the meanings of the French words we use in ballet class, and give them corresponding historical anecdotes when possible. Our director, Michaela, once asked her youngest class as to which nice people invented ballet. The random guesses commenced: Japan, Germany, Italy, America. She then gave them what she thought was a hint: “The nice people who invented French fries.”

“OH! The nice people at McDonald’s.”

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, this year’s Nutcracker is now brought to you by the quarter-pounder with cheese. Why? Just why?

They are dynamic little people, nonetheless. They worry about everyone’s well-being. I had a sunburnt nose once, and, as I drew attention to it one day, my student asked me in a concerned voice:

“Miss Eva…are they going to cut off your nose?”

I assured her that this was not going to be necessary, and that you should always wear lots of sunscreen. They also have big aspirations as to who they would like to be: princesses, doctors, ballerinas. But, every once-in-a-while, a child will tell you that she wants to grow up to be a puppy. I’m not sure how this will work, but I will get back to you on this. They embrace who they are wholeheartedly. When taking roll once, I received the following request from a student:

“Miss Eva…you can call me Marshmallow. That’s my nerd name.”

I didn’t quite know what to do with this, and was pretty sure that her mother was mortified that she had chosen “a stripper nickname,” so I made her name into a hyphenate. Because, Leah-Marshmallow works so much better.

Have a great weekend everyone.

Love,

EVA ♥

Hamburg Ballet: Midsummer Night’s Dream

Hello everyone!
midsummer

midsummer1Photos: Holger Badekow, courtesy of SFGate

As a few of you know, I went on a quick outing to the San Francisco Opera House last night to see Hamburg Ballet perform John Neumeier’s “Midsummer Night’s Dream.” I have to admit my bias for this particular ballet straightaway, as I danced Titania myself when I was younger, and it had to be one of my favorite roles of all time.

Having initially premiered in 1977,  the ballet features Felix Mendelssohn’s classical composition starkly contrasted with Hungarian composer György Ligeti’s postmodern works for organ and harpsichord. The ballet opens on a striking scene: Hippolyta standing shy of center stage in her wedding veil, train extended behind her, framed by a rectangle of light. Soon, the wedding preparations are in full swing. The lovely costuming sets the scene in the early 1800s, the dancers’ empire wasted gowns complimenting their movements with a mere flutter about their ankles. Characters are introduced with little pomp, the scene unfolding rapidly, drawing the audiences focus all about the stage. With the wedding veil, the many seamstresses, and the men of the court rushing about  Helena, Hermia, Lysander, and Demetrius are woven in and out of the groups of dancers,telling their stories with quick couples interactions. Soon, the audience is whisked off to the fairy realm as Hippolyta falls asleep, clutching a red rose that reappears thematically throughout the ballet.

While we spend little of the ballet in the fairy realm proper, it leaves quite the impression on the viewer. The fairies are represented as alien creatures; their staccato movements and flesh toned unitards very reminiscent of  Merce Cunnigham, with deep plies and skittering angular movements across the stage. They struck me as almost insect like, with their king and queen in shimmering, fish scale unitards and matching skullcaps. Hamburg-trained Alexandr Trusch undoubtedly stole the show as Puck, embodying the mischievous spirit to a tea: hanging like a monkey from the sets, bumbling about, and comically wearing the articles of clothing lost by the lovers as they stumbled through the woods.  What I found most refreshing about this production was the abundance of laughter from the audience-  the story line was initially intended as a comedy, after all.

While the tension between Oberon and Titania is palpable, the ballet bypasses the source of the conflict (and most of Titania and Oberon in general), focusing instead on the lovers’ odd love triangle, and the character development of the rustics. Bottom’s transformation into a donkey has a lengthy and comical lead-up, but is quickly repaired, along with all of Puck’s intended chaos. The music fluctuates between the modern Ligeti and the classic Mendelssohn, creating a disjointed sort of atmosphere. Much of Act II revolves around the great wedding celebrations, that of Hippolyta and Theseus, as well as Helena and Demetrius, and Hermia and Lysander. The wedding is grand and romantic, quite appropriate for upcoming Valentine’s Day, yet admittedly had so many false endings the audience could not differentiate between dance and curtain call.

In all, I’ve decided that I admire Neumeier’s work, and though at times his artistic choices may not be my absolute favorite, they are bold and distinctly styled, for which I give him great credit. There is no confusing his work with anyone else’s, and while I longed for the fairies to be traditionally “fairy like,” his take on the ballet as a whole was distinct and enjoyable. One of my favorite moments happened to be the way he chose to end it: with Puck, emerging from the wedding party in secret, smiling with magic red rose in hand, as billowing clouds of fog collided behind him. The clouds parted, revealing Titania and Oberon having one last moment together as the curtain descended.

I so enjoyed this production of “Midsummer” and would recommend that everyone go see it, but keep in mind its final run is tonight (two days is far short a time, Hamburg Ballet, just saying)! I will be highly surprised if the performance does not sell out (if it has not done so already) as guest artist Alina Cojocaru is scheduled to perform the roles of Hippolyta/Titania. It’s highly anticipated, to say the least. Maybe I will see you there.

EVA♥

Five Things

Hello everyone!

Wednesday is here already! It’s been an awfully long week already, but the weekend is in sight! Sort of…

I’ve been looking forward to today this whole week because I have this fabulous performance to go to tonight!

San Francisco Ballet is hosting the Hamburg Ballet for two nights only. They’re performing one of my favorite ballets of all time: “A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” choreographed by John Neumeier. His version of “The Little Mermaid” blew me away years ago, so I can’t wait to see what he’s done with this Shakespearean classic. I can tell just by the short video blurb that it’s going to be visually stunning. Only legitimate ballerinas can pull off holographic unitards. A review to follow!

In other news:

IMG_0820(My latest bookstore purchases. Random, just like me.)

Here’s the latest I’m reading! I have a CBEST study guide (boo! I don’t know what I’m doing with that, we’ll see), Allie Brosh’s new book, and  a gem of a biography on Jackie Kennedy Onassis. This last one fell in my lap as I was searching for something completely different at the bookstore. It chronicles her lifelong love of books and the influence they had on her life. I’ve always looked up to JKO, but something in this biography “clicked” for me. She was an incredible patron of the arts and the ballet, and made a name for herself in the publishing world. Both things I ultimately aspire to. I can’t put it down.

IMG_0816

(Target decor. On sale!)

I stumbled upon these guys the other day and it took all my willpower not to purchase them. My favorite has to be: “Dear Coffee, I love you. That is all.” It’s absolutely something I would say.

IMG_0787(Here’s the part where I show you pictures of my weird cat!)

Imagine waking to this face staring at you. She’s an odd duck, she is. In this moment, she was perched on my lap, upright, and we were staring at each other. I swear, we’re two peas in a pod sometimes. Oh, and I’m a cat lady. Just so you know.

IMG_0553(My favorite donuts in SF)

I have had the worst hankering for donuts this last week. I blame the dreary weather. From left to right, you are looking at a Caramel de sel, chocolate rose, strawberries & cream filled, hibiscus beet (Yes, BEET), passion fruit milk chocolate, and orange cardamom donuts. I’ll let that sink in. Hopefully it will sustain you for the next week.

Happy Wednesday!

EVA♥

Horrifying Moments in My Life as a Dancer

Hi All!

Remember when I used to be a ballerina? The title of this post is entirely self-explanatory.

IMG_0789

Now that I think about it, I review most of these moments quite frequently, usually as cautionary or self-esteem building tales for my students. And I mean building their self-esteem. They did quite the opposite for me, but I lived through them, so it’s really not so bad.

The Time I Fell. Really Hard.

I was a freshman in college, recently accepted to the dance program with zero idea as to what I was doing with myself. It was during the 8am ballet class- I had new block-like pointe shoes strapped to my feet and was already exhausted. We were doing some sort of waltzing thing that I loved, but the moment I took my first step, I hit a slick spot in the floor and my standing leg flew out from under me with enough force to send me completely horizontal before hitting the ground. Winded, I looked up at everyone’s ankles around me, and when the pianist didn’t stop playing, I dragged myself out of the incoming dancers’ way. Not only could I not breathe and was mortified, I was now crawling across the floor like Herbert the Pervert’s dog from Family Guy. I was more embarrassed than anything that day, but when I woke up the next morning feeling like someone was standing on my chest, I ended up at the student health clinic having x-rays done to ensure that I had not cracked any ribs. Turns out, I had bruised them significantly enough for me to not be able to move my torso for a week or two (or breathe without huffing), but was essentially fine.

The Time I Forgot Everything.

I think this is the moment that is most relieved as a teaching tool. I frequently ask my student’s “Ok…what’s going to happen to you if you forget your choreography? Yeah, nothing.” Every dancer I have ever spoken with has had this moment at some point in their life. Mine came right after a barrage of academic college finals, when it was finally time to present my solo that I had been working on for the last month in choreography class. I had spent hours staring at scantrons, and somehow, when I got onstage my brain was not able to transition from global economics back to dance quick enough. With my peers and the entire dance faculty watching, I got through the first 16 counts of my solo and stopped. I came to a grinding halt and stood staring at everyone. The music was kindly restarted for me, and I was prompted to take a few deep breaths and begin again. I did. Around the same time, I stopped again. My piece was bumped to the bottom of the program and I walked stoically into the hall to force myself to regurgitate what I had spent weeks working on. I had the option of improvising my entire solo, but I was so furious at myself at this point that I had to preserve my pride and remember everything. And I did, with a few extra embellishments. I could almost laugh about it afterwards, as my classmates came up to me one-by-one and regaled me with their own stories. It did make it a bit easier, especially knowing that my forgetfulness was not out of my being a “bad dancer,” but simply being mentally overwhelmed with projects at the time. Anyway, dancers are way tougher than they look.

The Worst Audition. Ever. 

I auditioned for a local ballet company back in the summer of 2010. I saw a few familiar faces, which was nice, but right as I walked in with an index card pinned to my chest (“Number 6, Thank you very much.”), I saw a face that I recognized all too well. At my studio, we once referred to her as “The Evil.” I’m not even joking. My ballet teacher from childhood, known for her freezing, bony hands and looks of deep disgust/disapproval, was sitting at the side of the room along with other members of a panel. I thought that maybe if I didn’t make eye contact with her, she would go away. She did not, and my avoidance was futile and made me look like a crazy person. Not only did I have to feel her eyes boring holes into my back as I danced, but the studio used for the audition was intended for modern, slick enough that you couldn’t find purchase in your satin shoes if you coated the bottoms in chewing gum.  I watched dancers drift and slip, and decided for the first time in my life that I was deliberately going to dance half-assed so I could get the hell out of there faster. When my number was not called to stay, I grabbed my things and all but ran to the parking lot in my tights and leotard. I remember having to consciously walk slowly and look disappointed as I left so as not to arouse suspicion. As I jogged to my car, I couldn’t help to feel like I was being followed, but my fear had manifested itself in some sort of bizarre, giddy adrenaline. I realized that, as much as I loved ballet, there are some things I just won’t put up with.

Love,

EVA♥

Occupational Hazards/Kids are hilarious…

Hello all!

This post is long overdue and highly requested- I’m going to preface this by saying that it will most likely be one of many.

IMG_0538

On some days, working with kids can be exhausting. They can involve “puddles,” runny noses, and attitudes. I’m sure any parent or teacher knows this all too well. On the other hand, it can also be extremely rewarding and so much fun. 95% of the time, it is the latter.   So, I wanted to take some time and share with you some of the highlights of my teaching career. Now, this post isn’t so much about watching my students progress, or getting misty over them growing up. It’s more along the lines of documenting the amusing word vomit that comes out of them on a regular basis.

Now, I touched on the ever-flattering question I get asked frequently: “Miss Eva, are you a kid? Or a grown-up?” Their curious little minds can’t help but pry further. I was 14 when I was first asked if I had any children of my own. I had to make the offending little dancer repeat herself multiple times before I could even begin to grasp what she was asking. I have also been asked the following, usually in rapid succession:

“How OLD are you?” (As in: you’ve been dancing for 20 years? You must be friggin’ ancient.)

“Are you married?”

“Do you at least have a boyfriend??” 

A little redheaded dancer came running in to class one day and asked me: “Miss Eva! When’s the BLAY class gonna start?” Bless their little speech impediments.

This same dancer once forgot my name and chose to refer to me instead as “Ballerina-teacher.” I gladly accept this title.

As is tradition, every winter we put out our vast collection of nutcrackers for the kids to admire. Upon missing them, one dancer asked our director “Hey Miss Michaela! Wherethecrackers?” It took us 10 minutes to figure out that she was not asking for food, but inquiring as to the location of the nutcrackers.

Kids also frequently enjoy volunteering information at random. In the middle of one of my classes a little girl once blurted “My mom’s hair isn’t really blonde!” Like she had been dying to tell someone, and could no longer hold it in. They love to tell on their classmates/parents.

“Susie isn’t here because she had to go to the doctor to have her independence out.”

Appendix. Appendix. I would be frightened if her parents had her independence medically removed.

“My daddy calls me ‘Hot Dog.'” (This was in response to me asking if she had a preferred name that she goes by.)

“My mommy’s boobies are bleeding!” To be fair, mommy had just had a baby. But I believe the other children in class are now scarred for life. Because your boobies can bleed.

“I’ve always wanted to be a dancer, but I’ve gotta be honest. Lately, it’s looking more like journalist or pop-star.” They have lofty career aspirations, don’t they?

One of my favorite classics include a little boy we had years ago, who had obviously just learned the difference between boys and girls. When prompted to go into the men’s room at break-time, he shouted:

“IS THAT BECAUSE I HAVE A PENIS??”

When this was affirmed, he followed this up with: “Good, because I don’t like looking at vaginas.”

…..

To be continued.

(Happy Friday!)

EVA♥

Five Things

Hello All! I must say, I’ve missed my “Five Things” posts. I write to you from the comfort of my home, sipping a big cup of PG Tips tea. Just so you know, I take my tea like I take my coffee, I’m afraid: strong, dark, and with lots of cream and sugar.

IMG_0773(Delicious tea in my favorite mug. I may no longer be in Hawaii, but I sure can pretend.)

Another one of my favorite teas has to be Republic of Tea’s Ginger Peach black tea. I drank it in abundance growing up, and, when my parents left me in Santa Barbara for college, a big cup of it was the one thing that made me feel instantly at home.

IMG_0639(It’s a bird! It’s a plane! It’s Maddie! Someone can’t hold still long enough for me to take a decent photo of her. She will also lick you to death if you’re not careful.)

Speaking of feeling at home, my new favorite doggie seems to be very happy in her new home with my good friend Rachel. Despite the fact that Madeleine is her brother’s (now roommate’s) dog, I think she likes us best. Maybe.

IMG_0666(Sushirrito. Is it sushi or is it a burrito?)

Ladies and gentlemen, you are looking at the Geisha’s kiss. Tuna, avocado, cucumber, tomago, and a variety of vaguely Mexican/Japanese ingredients make this creative thing. I highly recommend, so do check it out next time you’re in SF and in the mood for a culinary adventure.

IMG_0772(The Brooklyn, at Dogwood in Oakland)

Before anyone asks, that is a homemade brandied cherry on a stick. Bar Dogwood is this week’s “new-to-me” discovery. It’s small, cozy, and serves some of the best/fanciest grilled cheese sandwiches ever. I ate it before I could take a picture of it, and the tiny pickles it was served with.

IMG_0769(My idea of fun on a Saturday)

Yes, I am breaking in a new pair of pointe shoes. In my house. I have quite bit of sewing/doctoring to do, as these are not the maker of Freed I usually wear, and they’re a bit on the narrow side. But, there’s nothing to make you feel more accomplished as a dancer than beating a pair of shoes to a pulp, busting out a new pair, and starting over. 

 

Phenomenal: A 2014 SFB Gala Review

sfbgala2014Photo courtesy of Sfballetblog; Talk to Her (Hable con Ella)

Hi everyone! I spent a cozy night in this Friday, because this last Wednesday was eventful enough. That’s right, gala season has begun. I attended this years’ San Francisco Ballet Opening Night Gala (appropriately entitled Phenomenal), which has to be one of my favorite events of the year. When else is it entirely appropriate to wear an evening gown on a weekday? Being a self-proclaimed ballet nerd, I, of course was altogether too excited to attend. I love the sense of tradition of it, from the prosecco promenade (aka drink as much free prosecco as you can in 10 minutes!) to the march to the city hall afterparty following the show. It also has some of  the best people-watching around, especially if you appreciate over-the-top fashion. It’s most definitely a see and be seen event.  Here’s a quick picture of myself and the lovely ladies I was with that night:

2gala14(Why am I so tan?! Oh, that’s right, I had a spontaneous week of summer recently…)

They were fantastic company, and both had never been to the ballet at the Opera House before! The grandeur of it is really something else, and I think it made ballet fans of them both. The program for the night was the typical mixed bill, featuring previews of programs for the season, as well as some gala exclusives. The gala performance began with a pas de cinq from Giselle, lovely “happy yellow dance.” Bear in mind that when I use this term, I don’t actually mean the dance involved an abundance of yellow, but use this generalization to indicate the the piece was cheerful, non-offensive and non-divisive; a lovely classic way to begin any performance. Following this was a pas de deux, “Talk to Her,” which initially premiered at the 78th Gala- one that I had also previously attended. With live accompaniment, this piece was exquisite and sensual. Lorena Feijoo and Vitor Luiz’s spiraling movements added to the drama, a beautiful game of tug of war if there ever was one. Frances Chung followed with the only female solo from “Lambarena.” Sufficiently lightening the mood, this quirky African-inspired piece along with it’s predecessor, provided some diversity in the evening’s relatively classical line-up. Simone Messner and Ruben Martin Cintas presented an excerpt from “Who Cares?” You really can’t go wrong with good old George, in this case, both Gershwin and Balanchine. Hans van Manen’s Variations for Two Couples was quite modern and abstract. A thin rope draped across the upstage portion of the theater, dividing the space above and below the dancers. Both the movement and music reminded me quite strongly of John Neumeier’s “The Little Mermaid,” yet the high-gloss unitards the dancers wore were dated and somewhat unflattering. Contrasting the modern with the classic, “Diana and Acteon” followed, a premiere for SF Ballet danced by Vanessa Zahorian and Taras Domitro. They danced spectacularly, despite the obviously slick floor. What perplexed me the most about the piece was, oddly enough, the audiences reaction. Yes, dancers are human, they are allowed to slip and do. When the woman in front of me exclaimed out loud “Oh my god! What happened?!” I started to think that there might be something wrong with the general public’s view of the performing arts. Ballet places an almost reckless amount of emphasis on the ethereal- athleticism to an inhuman extent. The dancers that you so often see on stage have been forcing their bodies in to entirely unnatural positions since they could walk. Does your leg go upside of your head of it’s own volition? Imagine attempting this and then having to make it look easy. The unfortunate thing is, ballet teaches you to be self-scrutinizing to a fault. From my experience, almost no one is as hard on themselves as a dancer is. So, dear audience, lighten up. Did you not just see someone fall, and then get up and continue to deliver a beautiful performance with ridiculous vigor? Please stand and clap for the artistry.

 Act II featured some of my favorite pieces: “Les Lutins,” a whimsical and engaging piece that integrated movement and music in more ways that one. With a pianist and a violinist onstage, the dancers, similarly clothed, engaged in some good-natured competition and flirtation. The audiences’s ensuing laughter was refreshing- it was a dance you couldn’t help but smiling through. The pas de deux from “Concerto” intrigued me. Set to the 2nd movement of  Shostakovich’s Piano Concerto No. 2, it’s impressive and thematic moments of stillness were complemented by three pairs of dancers hidden in the shadows upstage. Their movements echoing the featured couple, I found myself wanting them to engage more, but they were whisked offstage altogether too soon.”Grande pas Classique” showcased former Paris Opera soloist Mathilde Froustey (now SFB principal) and Davit Karapetyan with it’s quintessentially classic choreography. I believe my favorite piece was “Finding Light,” a San Francisco premier choreographed by Edwaard Liang, danced by Yuan Yuan Tan and Damian Smith. It began and ended with a rectangle of light onstage, framing the dancers in their simple grey costumes. It’s movement was spiraling and quite modern, with dancers coiling around each other and sliding along the stage.

The performance itself was entertaining, but then again, so were some of the colorful characters in the audience. Apparently some people do not realize that attending a ballet involves sitting. Ladies, please be thoughtful in your dress choices. That skin-tight, elaborate red dress with the giant crumb catcher may seem like a good idea, but when you can’t sit down properly and consequently block everyone’s view, we have a problem. On another note, if you’re bringing your straight male partner/significant other/spouse, make sure he is filled with coffee. No one wants to hear him snore during the whole second act of the ballet. And lastly, do not, I repeat do not get up out of your seat during the final curtain call when everyone is clapping. It is beyond rude and disrespectful to the dancers, as well as your fellow patrons at the ballet. You are not deplaning an airplane or at the movies while the credits are running. The artists deserve to be acknowledged for all their hard work.

I’m so glad San Francisco Ballet raised a record $2.4 million dollars with this year’s gala. It’s so heartening to see so many people give so generously to the arts, because it’s such a rare thing nowadays. As a classic art form, ballet wouldn’t be around to appreciate without public support. When I entered the opera house on Wednesday evening, there was barely enough elbow room to make it through the crowd comfortably- it was a completely sold out show. Good job, everyone. And thank you San Francisco, for another amazing and memorable night out. I’ll see you again soon.

EVA ♥

It’s Christmas-y!

IMG_0606

It’s the most insane time of the year!

Hello All! I feel like it’s been so long since I posted, but it’s only been a week! These last few days have been ridiculously busy for me. Busy, but exciting. As is evident in the picture above, I’ve brought a little holiday fun to my last week of classes at Dance Arts. Can anyone say holiday sock class? (Yours truly is wearing the black and red holly socks.) One of my last classes had almost 25 dancers in it. We barely had enough space to fit on the barre:

IMG_0616

On top of a bevy of classes, I’ve been working some extra hours in the city this week, as Smuin is starting it’s Christmas Ballet run in Yerba Buena. I so enjoy being in that theater, and being able to see the show from almost any seat in the house, and as much as I want,  is an extra-large perk. I’ve also been getting used to the commuter lifestyle. It’s fantastic for people watching, but it also reminds me just how many crazy people there are out there. Unfortunately I don’t mean clinically crazy people, I mean people who apparently have the world’s largest chip on their shoulders and want everyone to know it. Bah Humbug!  My commute also does provide me with a fantastic excuse to visit new little stores and coffee shops on my way to work, and of course, perfect the art of the Muni selfie. See below.

IMG_0608

IMG_0614(Alternative to Starbucks on my way to the office: Ma’velous. Don’t know if you can see it, but they have a little turtle mascot stamped on their to-go cups. The turtle himself resides in a tank to my left. They get bonus points from me for doubling as a wine bar.) I did also happen to pass Veer & Wander the other day, and saw to fabulously stylish ladies in the middle of a hair appointment, cracking open a bottle of champagne. I do believe I stopped and envious eyes at them through the window. It was the kind of glamorous moment that you don’t expect to find at 10am on an ordinary Friday morning.

In all the scuffle, I somehow ran out of time to have a little Christmas to myself, so just this morning, I made a decision to get up a bit early, grab a tree from the lovely neighborhood nursery and do a quick decorating job. I would show you a picture, but I have a number of presents that I have yet to wrap under the tree. And we all know that would spoil some surprises. Until next time…

I promise I won’t be a stranger.

EVA ♥

Why I Love My Job

IMG_0349

I have been dancing since before I can remember.

One of my favorite childhood photos involves me at 2 years old. In a wrinkled tutu with skinned and band-aid covered knees. Eyes closed and dancing in the kitchen, most likely to music only I can hear. Like most little girls, I wanted to be a ballerina before I knew what one was, or even looked like. I remember the first ballet I ever saw, Nijinska’s Bolero, and how I wanted to be the dancer onstage, in my mind, I already was her.

I knew that teaching was always a viable option for a dancer, but there was no guarantee that I’d be any good at it, or that it would lead to anything lasting or memorable. Anyway, who was I to tell anyone what to do? The thing that no one tells you is that your teachers and mentors are just as human as anyone else, and that the transition from student to teacher can be as quick as one day to the next. At least that’s how it was for me. It was the most natural decision I’ve ever made. It was a non-decision. What I never expected was that I would come to love the teaching itself as much as I did. While my students and I have the love of dance in common, I am not in the business of making “dancers.” Instead, I hope that I  help them see that the work that they do is important and self-defining.  I’ve certainly found my identity through dance, and I hope it serves them the same.

IMG_0457

I’ve always known that dance was the most life-affirming of the arts out there. It happens in moments, often impossible to repeat, and endlessly different from one dancer to the next. There’s no putting it behind UV glass or in and environmentally controlled space to keep it forever. It grows and lives within people, it can’t be bought or sold, really. I hope it can say all the right things for me when I can’t find the words to say it.

Love,

EVA♥