Monday, January 31, 2011


Extravadance is coming up soon, friends.

I know, to most of you, that means exactly nothing, but to me, it’s a little pinch of loneliness. Extravadance is the show that Gid and I used to perform in during our university days. There have been several shows since our graduation, but I still feel sentimental when I hear people mentioning it. Last weekend, Gid and I saw BYU’s Living Legends, and I experienced awful performance withdrawals. There’s something about going to a performance on stage with costumes, smoke, and professional lighting that makes me really want to get onstage. After the show, we went for ice cream with some of our buddies, and one of my friends described what I thought was a terrific performance as cheesy. (Insert Frowny Face)

It made me think a little about what made me enjoy the performance as opposed to her. And I think the answer is obvious: empathy. I’d experienced exactly what the BYU performers had experienced: the anticipation before the curtain opens, the thrill before running into a spotlight, the choking sensation when you take too deep a breath of foggy air, and the warmth that runs over you when the audience begins to applause. And when I watched the performers the other night, I could be excited for them with that understanding.

The last time I performed in Extravadance was March of 2009. I guess it hasn’t been that long, but it feels much much longer. I made a conscious effort my last season on the company to try to embrace every moment, because I knew it wouldn’t last forever, and I believe it is because of my effort to embrace each late rehearsal, each tech week, and each sweet moment on tour in Russia, that I had such an unforgettable experience my senior year. It’s been so fun to take the dance classes the past few months, but inevitably, I’ve got to face the fact that I’ll have to stop dancing eventually. So do me a favor, friends, would you? Don’t let me talk badly about my dance classes and experiences in the studio. There are so many more sweet moments for me to gush about than bitter ones. And when I look back on my memories, and all I have are journal (or blog), I hope the entries are full of sweetness.

Looking forward to tomorrow’s class.

Happy Monday, Friends.


1 comment:

  1. Can I tell you something? Say yes, cause I'm telling you anyway... I miss you, dearly! Text me pronto! Love ya girly!


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