Muscle memory is something dancers take for granted. We hear a certain music, and somehow our limbs begin to move to a primal beat, its choreography imprinted through hours and hours of practice. Lengthen that arm, stretch that foot just beyond its limits. The difference between a technically perfect performance, and a truly inspiring, transformative performance is nuanced and certainly cannot be explained with words.
One takes skill, while the other takes art. It will move the the audience. There will be tears. If you have never cried while watching the ballet, you may not understand.
One ballerina in the Nutcracker hesitated. She didn’t leap into her partner’s arms. I turned to the Bride and we both looked bereft. Sorry for her, and feeling so sorry for him. I could see it on his face, I could feel it in my heart.
It’s got something to do with trust, but not just in your partner. In order to let go, and truly fling yourself into the air, you must trust in yourself and then let go. And trust in God. Because we all fall at times, and it’s how we get up and do it again that matters.
A friend asked if I had any pictures from thirty years ago. Here I am looking over my shoulder before going out on stage. Bob caught me in the wings, in the dark with gingerbread soldiers and reindeer.
Looking through some photographs I found inside a drawer
I was taken by a photograph of you
There were one or two I know that you would have liked a little more
But they didn’t show your spirit quite as true
Jackson Browne – Fountain Of Sorrow Lyrics | MetroLyrics