Discipline.

Wake up, the sun is shining thru my window. I march out of bed in pursuit of my daily routine: dancing before school, grabbing some coffee, and i'm off! Rushing to beat the Jccc traffic.

Sometimes there are no words to say. Life can take many forms, but perhaps the strongest in our ways of discipline.

As a dancer, strength is neccessary.
Every move-strong.
Outside I am strong. Inside, i'm mesmorized by the music; letting it carry me away.

Passionately. Violently.

1-2-3-4 and 1 and 2 and 3 and 4 and Plie´,Eleve´, and Coupe´ landing in second. Again.

As i'm listening to the familiar waltz, my mind wanders...like i'm highly intoxicated, I obligingly let the music carry me away. My feet-tight. My arms-strong. Strong but graceful, I dance for myself. I dance for those watching me.
My feet ache.

I cannot tell a lie: I have a long ways to go. And like any athelete, i'm competitive and arrogant.

Discipline.
Passion.
Pain.

...and I let the music take my body away.


Tonight, I'll prepare to do the same thing for tomorrow. Discipline. Discipline.

A dancer...