About a month or so ago, I was giving a tour to a house guest, and our mutual friend Jill was tagging along. Jill happens to be the mama of Artgirl, who's been featured frequently in my blog posts over the last four years (Scroll down or back a few posts and you'll find her). When we got to the dance room, my guest Yvonne, an accomplished Irish dancer, was a bit disappointed she hadn't brought dance shoes, and wouldn't be around long enough to play, anyway. Jill, who's seen the room a dozen times, suddenly lit up with an idea. Her younger daughter would really love to play in the dance room...maybe with a little dance instruction...maybe I'd like to consider...? Jill is one of those people who has a hopeful "maybe???" face nobody can say no to, which explains why my thighs are now screaming every Monday afternoon, even as my heart leaps and sings with joy.
|"Instrument of torture", a.k.a. "ugly machine", a.k.a. generously gifted Bowflex. (Thank you again and always, Sarah and Oscar!) Little dancers don't need to work out, but I find it helps grown ones tremendously!
|"I got this." Dancegirl has been watching her older sister, Artgirl, get to play with power tools for a few years, now. Today, she finally got her turn. Obviously, she's been paying close attention all this time.
|It's all about centering.
|...and keeping at it until you get it right. Carpentry and dance have a lot in common, I guess.