Anchor Points

Well hello there little blogity blog! Long time, no write.
I could write a long laundry list of excuses & lame-o reasons why I haven't written - some legit, but most of them, well they're all excuses, so what does it matter?! If I want to be a writer then I'd better write, right?
Well I've had this post stuck in the "draft" folder for far too long. It happens when I get on this inspiration-kick, but I tell myself, "Jessika you can't publish two blog post is less than 24 hours especially when it's been a month since you last wrote anything at all!" And then I forget about the "draft" folder all together.
Whoops.
As I recall when I wrote the majority of this post (basically the title and the verses below) it was the middle of August and we (we meaning the PNB dancers) had moved on from learning our January Rep of Don Quixote to our All Contemporary Rep that we'll be premiering in March. There will be 3 ballet's on that bill: David Dawson's A Million Kisses to My Skin, Annabella Ochoa's Cylindrical Shadows, and a world premiere by Victor Quijada.
Having worked in the studio with Victor in past years, I've had the privilege to learn his very unique style of movement, which comes from his background in classical and street-dancing, even incorporating aspects of yoga, martial arts and a lot of improv. In reality when you're dancing his choreography you feel a little bit like you're either a) under water, b) in the Matrix, or c) both.
A major concept that is central to his style is that of the "anchor point." Whether it be your heel, your elbow, your palm or forehead, it's the place from which the movement not only originates and/or rotates around, but where it's anchored. So when you're teetering off balance your anchor point is what pulls you back to your center - back to balance.
August was a really challenging month for me in more than one way. I used to read articles on my Yahoo homepage about people in their mid to late twenties having what they termed as the "quarter life crisis" and I'd laugh. No scoff. No both.
Well now who's laughing?
Not me.
Not so long ago a friend of mine said he felt like a rudderless boat. I sympathized and tried to encourage him, reminding him that the Lord has great plans for his life and He'll reveal it in His perfect timing. (On a side note, why is it always so much easier to see the adventure, potential and be eagerly expectant for other people's lives, but not your own?) But it wasn't till this past August that I truly understood... So this is what it feels like to be a rudderless boat! 
I know this is all sounding really vague. It is. On purpose. Because truthfully I don't really feel like hanging all my sick nasty laundry out there for everyone to read. No one wants to read that. Not even (especially!) me.
But even a rudderless boat has an anchor. And even though I won't be in the new Quijada piece, I have anchor points.

On the first day of our season, oddly enough I had little if any rehearsal (bare with me... it was in early July!). So I spent the day in prayer and journaling to the Lord, consecrating this season to Him. And He specifically gave me these anchor points - anchor verses - that He not only knew I would need, but that He wants me cling to throughout this season. And cling I have! I hope they're an encouragement to you too. So Anchor Points: Anchor's away!

"Trust in the Lord and do good; dwell in the land and enjoy safe pasture. Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart. Commit your way to the Lord; trust in Him and He will do this: He will make your righteousness shine like the dawn, the justice of your cause like the noonday sun. Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for Him; do not fret when evil men succeed in their ways, when they carry out their wicked schemes." ~ Psalm 37:3-7

"... let us draw near to God with a sincere heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water. Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess for he who promised is faithful. And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds. Let us not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but let us encourage one another- and all the more as you see the Day approaching." ~ Hebrews 10:22-25

"So do not throw away your confidence; it will be richly rewarded. You need to persevere so that when you have done the will of God, you will receive what he has promised. For in just a very little while, 'He who is coming will come and will not delay. But my righteous one will live by faith. And if he shrinks back I will not be pleased with him.' But we are not of those who shrink back and are destroyed, but of those who believe and are saved." ~ Hebrews 10:35-39

"Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see." ~ Hebrews 11:1

"And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us." ~ Romans 5:2b-5

"But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what he already has? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently." ~ Romans 8:24b-25

"In the morning, O Lord you hear my voice; in the morning I lay my requests before you and I wait in expectation." ~ Psalm 5:3 

Second cycle

I just need to stop apologizing and do something. And by "something" I mean write.

For a number of reasons, I decided to drop the philosophy (Critical Reasoning) course I'd registered for this summer quarter at Bellevue College. It was a hard decision... I hate the idea, even the thought of quitting. I'm not a quitter. Taking responsibility for my choices, staying the course, sticking it out - these concepts (mottos?) are deeply woven into the fiber of my being. It's called commitment - a word I fear many in my generation are unfamiliar with... And while this is just a community college course, I feel this strange sense of urgency, of intentionality... that every course I take will not only serve to fulfill my General Ed requirements, but will somehow be used in my life in the present and the future. But this is all beside the point. Not to mention a little dramatic? Um. Yes.
So what is the point, you ask? The point is, I eased my conscience by promising myself I'd use this quarter "off" to write, write, WRITE! Well so much for that... 

But I still have some time before fall quarter begins. Summer's not over yet! Shoot... here in the Northwest it feels like summer just started! 

What has started is my 8th season as a professional ballet dancer with Pacific Northwest Ballet. 

Wow. 

Has it really been that long? Am I really that old? Haha!!! I don't think that I'm that old. 

It seems like just yesterday that I received my first contract. That I was assigned shoe cubby number 27 with a little sliver plaque reading "Jessika Anspach" under it. That I claimed my locker between Lindsi Dec and Carrie Imler, which inevitably overflowed to the spaces above and across... Yes, I was kind of a mess. I still am.
And then poof! Seven years just flew by. Okay, they didn't fly by. Flying, in my mind, implies ease, or at the very least a lack of difficulty. Hmmm... But I've never "flown" before. I wonder if flying actually is difficult?
Wow. Rabbit trail. Sorry about that.
At any rate the past seven years haven't been "a piece of cake," a "walk in the park" or, my personal favorite, "easy peasy lemon squeezy." Then again I don't think anything having to do with ballet could ever be considered easy. It's like saying sandpaper's as smooth as a baby's butt, or walking on a bed of hot coals is fun.
But the struggles, the obstacles I've faced in arriving at where I am today were massive. Mountainous. Like Himalayas mountainous. Just ask our physical therapist Boyd Bender. He'd be the first to tell you that my body wasn't meant for dancing. Or ask any of my former PNBS teachers if they ever thought this dyslexic and daydreaming girl would ever have made it to the professional ranks. They'd probably laugh... I'm just remembering Abbie Siegel sweetly saying to me at barre: "No. Jessika. Left... your other left."
But the Everest of these obstacles, greater than dyslexia or any physical funkiness I have to deal with on a daily basis, was an unseen mountain buried deep within myself.
Call it Fear, Self-Loathing, or the Idol of Ballet and Self. They all apply. What it comes down to is that I put my identity, my confidence, my value and self-worth in how I looked and how I danced. Essentially I put my trust in ME, not in the Almighty and Sovereign Lord. So it's no surprise that over the past seven years these pillars built on sand have come toppling down. And pillars toppling hurts. A lot.
But praise God for His mercy, His grace and His sovereignty! He could have removed me completely from ballet - the thing I worshiped above Him - but His ways are higher than our ways and His thoughts are higher than our thoughts. He had/has a plan for my life and ballet's a part of it, whether I want it or not (oddly enough there have been times when I haven't wanted it. At. All.) Miraculously He's kept me at PNB while building my pillars on Firm Foundation - on Him!
Through lots of prayer He's moved mountains for me. He's paved the way and has led me along His path. And after six years of struggle it felt like I'd finally exited the hard pruning season and finally began to see some buds blossoming.
As I said before last season was by far the best season I've ever had. The Lord blessed me with so many wonderful roles and opportunities to dance. I felt like I was challenged, pushed and therefore grew in a way I'd always hoped for but had yet to experience. And more than that I found my trust growing in Him, and my confidence rooted in Him. I am so humbled, so grateful and so in awe of the gifts He gives that are immeasurably more than all we can ask or imagine. He is so good and so faithful!

And so I've begun Season 8. I'm now entering into what my dad terms as the "second cycle." The 2nd seven year stretch. I still have shoe cubby 27. I still dance at PNB. My left leg is still 1/4" longer than my right, and I still struggle with knowing my left from my "other left." But I have a new locker, and it's a new year. I am a new creation. I cannot go back to who I was before.

"Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?" Isaiah 45:18-19

 It is going to be a good year. It is not going to look like last year, and so far it couldn't be more different. And it's hard. Hard to expect without expectations. Hard to not dwell on the past, even when the past was glittering and bright. But I can remember His faithfulness. I can remember the miracles and the work of His awesome hands. And I can have faith. I have hope.

Praise Him!
He is doing a new thing!

A missing piece

What a whirlwind this summer's been!
It's amazing how quickly 5 weeks flies by... And man have I ever packed them in. Like canned sardines, packed. Mmm... Sardines. Ha! Sardines...
Once in 5th grade my Mom packed a tin of sardines and crackers in my lunchbox. I thought it was a great lunch but apparently Natalie Alotis didn't agree... she went running to the trashcan to upchuck hers. And yet reminiscing about my elementary school days is not what this post's supposed to be about...
So what is this supposed to be about?
That's a good question...

I mean really, I don't even know where to begin! I could blog about the craziness that was June 12th: our last show of Giselle, my last show dancing with six amazing coworkers, two company parties, and oh yes... my Dad's birthday too. I could blog about the week-long road trip vacation I took to Billings, MT with my mom. I could blog about the new place that's become my default home: DERUmarket - the new little artisan take-away market my dear friends opened in Kirkland. I could blog about baby showers, bridal showers... The list could go on and on and on...
Sadly none of these make the cut tonight. Hopefully (if I can get my act together), they'll make it on the blog roll before September sneaks up on us.

So tonight I'm blogging about a missing piece.

Monday- yesterday, marked the first day of what will be my 8th season dancing for Pacific Northwest Ballet. That sentence in an of itself could and should be yet another post! But there was something off about yesterday... a piece that was missing. You see, yesterday also marked something else. It was the first day, the first season since I began dancing professionally for PNB that I was not greeted by my green-eyed, curly-haired, phlegm-hacking friend. His name is Barry Kerollis and I miss him desperately.

There's so much that I could say about Barry. So much... From his mullet-stylin' younger years when he taught himself how to play every instrument under the sun to the time he was "working on his double axels" in rollerskates (yes, you heard me those giant clunky four-wheeled rollerskates), Barry could and can always make me laugh. His life has been far from ordinary, and someday I'd love to write his story so the whole world can know what an incredible individual he is. But for now, this blog will have to do. So below is the speech I wrote for him and delivered June 12th, 2011. It was the best I could do to encapsulate in a matter of moments who this very unique, very special and very dear friend is, and what he's meant to not only me but all of us at PNB.

 Well I’ve been stressing over this speech for the past week. Surprise surprise... And one night over Facebook chat Barry, trying to help de-stressify, told me that if all I said was “I love you” he’d be happy.  Anything after that would be like the cherry on top of the sundae.

So Barry, I love you.

Now begin the multiple toppings to this sundae of a speech.

I don’t remember the first time I met Barry or my first impression of him. I wish I could tell you all some great story but I can’t. We were both hired the same year, but it wasn’t until the end of that year that I think we really became friends. Having both survived the “great transition,” I think we just naturally gravitated toward one another. For the first couple years it seemed we were in an unspoken competition for who could use up more sick days. He says he won, but I’m not so convinced, although I will say he always had the most extreme reasons for using a sick day. He’s always had a flair for the dramatic. His advice for me in giving this speech was to pretend I was giving his eulogy. Ha! Well instead I’m gonna be cheesy and do an acrostic.

B. “B” is for Bunhead. The thing about you Barry is I think I know you and then you tell me another story that blows my mind. For example I just learned that he used to call ballet companies saying he was interested in becoming a season subscriber in the hopes that they’d send him brochures with dance photos that he could look at and cut out. And then there are those days that I’d find you on your lunch break in the production office watching/studying archive videos. But in all seriousness there are few people I’ve come across who actually love dance, ALL forms of dance as much as you do. You’re constantly on the look out for new things to inspire you be it from a local performance or a youtube video. And this passion for dance is reflected not only in the way you perform, but in the daily grind of class and rehearsals as well. From your chilling performance of Mercutio, to your tumbling skills in Ordinary Festivals, you literally throw yourself into every role. Not only that but you’re one of the most versatile dancers I’ve met displaying your clean technique in the 2^nd Theme from The Four Temperaments, your contemporary prowess in One Flat Thing Reproduced and Serious Pleasures, and even your knack for musical theater in your amazing performace of Cool from West Side Story Suite. But best of all I think is your ability to work in cumbersome costumes… On Barry’s performance of Red Riding Hood from Sleeping Beauty:

“Leanne Duge and Kerolis have some great turns in this. Between this role and Bottom I wonder if he’s found a specialty “Will dance wearing a big head.”  Sorry… I just had to.

A is for Advocate. Not only did you step up to be the point person/dancer liason for Backstage Pass, always giving us those great announcements every second Friday of the Rep, but you’ve been our fearless AGMA rep. I know Abby’s already mentioned this, but Barry, you really have been an invaluable and fearless leader in our company. Thank you for standing up for us.  Thank you for never taking that job lightly – ha! If only people could see that notebook of yours! Thank you for asking the difficult questions, for saying the things everyone was feeling but not willing to say themselves…  And this brings me to R.

Resonant… as in loud. As in gregarious and outspoken. Be it written on a T-Shirt, a Facebook post or just simply on your face, you’ve never been one to hide your thoughts, feelings or emotions. Always on the cutting edge, you were into blogging  long before blogging was even big. “Over 400 posts, 25,000 views, and a whole lot’a drama. I’m not one to be quiet.” Well you said it Barry, I didn’t. But I remember a conversation we had a while ago about this “voyeuristic journaling” as I liked to call it, and you told me that people were genuinely interested in you, and your daily life. They found it fascinating… and I can’t say I disagree. In fact, I truly admire your openness with people and how readily you share yourself and your life with others. There truly is no greater gift than giving of yourself and Barry you give this gift often, to me and to everyone you meet. Which brings me to R #2.

Relational. Of all the things that makes you you Barry it’s your deep love for people… for the people in your life. You are unfailingly generous and hospitable, always opening up your home for get –togethers… be it a cocktail party, game night or my personal favorite karaoke. But these little shin-digs are about more than having a good time and a good drink… You really invest yourself, and pour youself out for the people you love. You write handwritten personal notes. You give the most amazing Christmas gifts ever. And you’re always there. To chat with at 2am when venting is oh so necessary, to hug when the tears won’t stop flowing, to drive to the ER and be a 24hr nurse when the poo hits the fan. It’s hard to think of what you wouldn’t do. You are in my mind the definition of a good friend. Of the best friend. Of the kind of friend I wish I were and hope to be.

And now finally to Y – Why do you have to go? Why must things change? But I’m reminded that change is a necessary, an imperative ingredient to growth. For as much as I hate change I hate stagnancy more. And BK I want you to grow! I want you to be the best you can be. And I know you will because unlike me you don’t hate change, but rather you embrace it. You’re constantly looking ahead, evaluating your dreams, goals and desires and following the path that will enable you to achieve them. You’re not afraid. You see life as an adventure and “can’t” is a word that doesn’t exist in your vocabulary.  But I just can’t wait to see all the amazing and wonderful things you will do, because you will do them.

So I guess I shouldn’t be asking why but what… what are we going to do without you? What am I going to do without you? Who’ll be waiting in the stage left wing to catch my enormous airbite and cheer me on in my 20-something snow? Who’ll be up in the therapy room to argue with me about Siberian weather conditions, entertain me with crazy stories of Belltown bus rides, or to talk about our mutual obsession with coffee. And who’ll be there when barre is over to greet me with a smile, a nod and an “eh-oh” every morning?

Oh Barry “I love you” seems too small a phrase to convey how much you mean to me, and what a blessing your friendship has been. And words cannot even begin to express how much I’m going to miss you. But I am so proud of you for following your heart and so excited for this next chapter in your very extraordinary life. Ballet X is so blessed to have you in their company, and we have been privileged to have you in ours. And praise Jesus we’re both Facebook addicts. Seriously. So here’s to you Barry! L’chaim!!!"


So tomorrow... Well if you've read this far down, tomorrow marks Barry's first performance at his new home with BalletX in the city of brotherly love. So BK this is my "merdé" gift to you!!! Dance your heart out friend. I wish I could be there in the audience to cheer you on, but know we are all so proud of you back here in Seattle. Cheers!!!

Beautiful Ballerinas

"It is a truth universally acknowledged that..."

Ha! I'm wondering how many of you can actually finish this quote... I'm wondering how many of you even know what novel this is from. (Calling all Austen-addicts...)

And while I'm sure I could have a relatively intelligent (animated? amusing?) discussion/blog post on whether or not "a man in possession of a good fortune must really be in want of a wife," that's not the truth I'm referring to here... Move over Jane Austen. Hello Walt Disney! 

It's a small world after all...

This story began one fateful day in November. The exact day I don't remember. And, well, I don't believe in Fate so I guess "fateful" is the wrong word too, but you all get the picture. Maybe "Providential" would be more appropriate. 

At any rate, I was in the back of Studio C watching a run-through of Snow (from PNB's Nutcracker) and behold! In front of me was this beautiful blonde-haired, bright-eyed professional division student who absolutely blew me away with her saut de chat. But it wasn't just that. I don't know... there was just something about her (of course this something would become more than obvious later...) So, using her pointe shoes as an in/excuse, I sort of forced her "under my wing." She graciously complied... 

And her name is Carlie Mills... a.k.a. Briar Rose (because she literally looks like that Sleeping Beauty Disney Princess). 

Fast forward to April, 2011. One day while walking around backstage during a rehearsal for A Midsummer Night's Dream this little Miss Briar Rose came up to me. And with those big ol' Bambi eyes  timidly tapped me on the shoulder and nervously blurted out, "Hey! Jessika! Sooooo... I have a question for you. Umm.... I was wondering if you could help me out with something."
Half-laughing to myself because she seemed almost skittish in approaching me (I don't think I'm that intimidating), I gave her my warmest smile and, trying to put her at ease, said "Absolutely. What's up?"
Fully expecting her to ask me some question about, well, I don't know... how to deal with ingrown toenails or corns, which false eyelashes I use (105 and 111's if you're wondering...), or maybe a question about the choreography, I was totally blown away by what followed.
You see Carlie and I have something else in common (other than both loving ballet and having a flair for the dramatic - you should have seen this girl as Shoe Lady #3 in Cinderella!). We both love Jesus. That's the something I mentioned earlier... the same something, the same Light, which I hope shines from me too!
And this love, this Light shone even more brightly through Carlie when she shared with me a story from the pulpit that had inspired her. The previous Sunday the pastor at her church had spoke of a little girl he'd met in eastern Washington.
Her name is Ella Mae. She's a vibrant, energetic 6-year-old little girl who loves Jesus and ballet too. Ella Mae has big beautiful eyes, the sweetest smile and Spina Bifida... a condition that among other serious medical complications has her in a little walker as she's paralyzed from the waist down. But that doesn't stop Ella Mae! She wants to be a ballerina just like Carlie and me- be it by God's gracious, omnipotent and healing hand or when she's finally at Home with Jesus in Heaven. In a conversation to her little brother Levi (overheard by her Dad) she said,

“Levi, do you know what will make heaven so wonderful?” “What?” he said. “Heaven will be wonderful because there won’t be any walkers, braces, wheelchairs, or Spina Bifida, which means I’ll finally get to run and play with you like I’ve always wanted to do,” —said in her excited voice, as only she can— “and I’ll be able to dance for Jesus too. He’ll love it. He’s amazing you know, and he really likes ballerinas. I can’t dance now because my legs don’t work, but he’ll fix them in heaven, and then I’m gonna dance my heart out. He can’t wait to see me dance.”

 "So I was wondering if you'd be able to help me get Ella Mae tickets to the ballet and maybe a backstage tour?" said Carlie after relating to me this story.
Forget "if." "When"?!!!! 
This was the only question on my mind... Tonight? Tomorrow? Shoot... "Today" wouldn't be soon enough. But the Lord knew...

June. June 11th at 1:15pm to be exact. This was the day I met Ella Mae. Clad in a beautiful pink tutu complete with magenta ballet flats and a glittering tiara too, she arrived in the strong arms of her escort... her very tall and very proud papa, followed by her mama & little brother. And I, dressed in my mismatched ugly orange peasant costume, took them backstage where Carlie met up with us so that Ella Mae could not only meet ballerinas but get the chance to dance on stage too. And boy does this girl have some flair!! She showed me her moves, striking her sweet little poses...  And right before Carlie took them to find their seats for the show, I gave her a couple gifts - a pair of my pointe shoes and a Giselle poster signed by most of the company.
But these gifts were so minimal compared with the gifts I received through this experience.
What a gift it was to not only meet Ella Mae and her amazing family, but to share her story with all the other dancers in the company. Testimonies are powerful - lives lived for Christ - and hers is one that I know the Lord is using in an incredible way to draw people to Himself, even ballerinas. Because as Ella Mae's said, "He really likes ballerinas." And I can't agree more!

But also, what a blessing little Miss Carlie Mills has been to me. She's shown me that a deep love for Jesus and His Kingdom isn't something to just think, talk or blog about... it does! It's active. It doesn't just contemplate conviction, but it takes the tangible steps to serve others.
And what a gift it's been to serve the Body... the bigger Body. Because even though Carlie and I don't attend the same church, we are both a part of the Body of Christ. We both love Jesus and His Kingdom. And in the end that's what it's about. Loving the Lord with all your heart, mind, soul and strength and loving your neighbor as yourself... building up the Body of Christ and furthering His Kingdom.

It's a small world. Had it not been for Carlie I would never have met Ella Mae. But I have been blessed beyond measure by these two beautiful ballerinas. And I thank the Lord for making the world small and bringing them into my life.

There's so much more to this story... I feel like I've only touched the tip of the iceberg with this post. I'd encourage you to listen, watch, or read the sermon that inspired this whole experience along with this follow-up blog post to the sermon written by Ella Mae's dad. And you can follow Ella Mae and her family's adventures here.

But I'll end this long blog post with some photos so you can see and hear that God is good! Enjoy!

"Ella at the ballet"

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PS... Corey Everett Smiley deserves a HUGE shout out... You are the best. Thank you for also being an integral part in orchestrating this Divine appointment!

Drowning

Hello?
Is anyone there?
Am I there? all there?
Ha! Well I think so... I think I made it through this past month in one piece.
Let me tell you... it's been a month.
Can someone explain to me why, if I have less "going on" in my life than I've had in the past couple years, do I feel more overwhelmed than ever before? I mean when I think about all that I used to do... Volunteering in the High School Ministry at my church, leading a discipleship group, being a part of the college ministry leadership team, attending Bible Study Fellowship, taking a college class online, working full-time and somehow managing to have a social life... how in the WORLD did I do it all?!!!
I mean I've winnowed that list down to about half the activities/responsibilities and yet I feel like I'm drowning. I'm stuck playing this game: trying to pick up the pieces of my life that keep falling off the truck in front of me, but when I chuck them back into the truck they just roll right out again... Sometimes I have to run back to grab the few bits I missed- e-mails, phone calls, this blog. Shoot... I haven't even set up the voicemail on my "new" phone. I say "new" because I've had it for like two months. Then again I've never been good about checking my voicemail anyway...
Aren't you supposed to get better at accomplishing more the older you get? I mean at the very least what happened to the time-management skills I somehow, somewhere seemed to have acquired? They must have fallen off the truck first and rolled into a ditch. Haha...

So where do I even start?
Maybe where I left off... yeah. That's probably a good idea.

Well let me begin by saying that I didn't have strep throat. Once again I had some crazy-weird mystery illness. Arrggh. Can you feel my frustration? But nothing in my life is ever "normal" or predictable so I guess I shouldn't expect my biology to be any different.
Needless to say my first week back to work after having to take 3 weeks off was rough. Quite rough. And yes, I had to take the 3 weeks off. Completely off.
What you all didn't know is that in the middle of Midsummer I had to get an MRI done of my left foot. The diagnosis: a stress reaction. Okay so I guess sometimes I do (miraculously) get a definite answer.
But what's a stress reaction? Basically it's a pre-stress fracture... the bone's about to break. But because a break (vacation) was nearing on the horizon I was able to finish A Midsummer Night's Dream with the understanding that I'd rest my foot for the entire 3 weeks, allowing it to heal.

"Okay. No sweat. It's only 3 weeks. My body needs the rest and the Lord's gonna take care of me. I just need to trust Him... Trust that it's been Him who's taken me this far and He'll get me back here again."


I just kept saying this over and over again to myself, hoping that the more I said it the more I'd believe it. And I did believe it. At first. But Worry has a curious way of wriggling himself into my heart.
You see this year has been hands down my best season thus far at PNB. The Lord has opened doors. He's opened eyes. He's given me opportunities, and has helped me improve so much, not only in my technique, but in my confidence and trust too. It's been Him. All Him. I show up. I do what He asks me to, and I work hard at it. But that's so minor compared to the work of His Mighty Hands.
And yet, what do I do? I start worrying that all this hard work that I've done to get here ("filthy rags" as Isaiah terms it) will all be for naught. And yes, if I had done all this- if my worth and identity were founded on this hard work- then there would be cause to worry, and it would all be for naught. But praise the Lord He's Sovereign and Almighty! Praise Him that He's holding me. Praise Him that in all things He works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose. And praise Him that He sees and knows my heart. He sees that seed of pride creeping in. He sees me slowly separating myself from Him, trying to do things on my own.  And He knows how to best draw me close to Him.

"I am with you, watching over you constantly. I am Emmanuel (God with you); My Presence enfolds you in radiant Love. Nothing, including the brightest blessings and the darkest trials, can separate you from Me. Some of My children find Me more readily during dark times, when difficulties force them to depend on Me. Others feel closer to Me when their lives are filled with good things. They respond with thanksgiving and praise, thus opening wide the door to My Presence.

I know precisely what you need to draw nearer to Me. Go through each day looking for what I have prepared for you. Accept every event as My hand-tailored provision for your needs. When you view your life this way, the most reasonable response is to be thankful. Do not reject any of My gifts; find Me in every situation." ~ from May 29th in "Jesus Calling"

 I wish I could say I were the latter child mentioned in the quote above, but alas I am not. I am the one who finds Him in times of trial. And what a trial that first week back to work was!
Not only was I sick, but because I took those 3 weeks completely off - no running, no jumping... nothing to keep the muscles in my left ankle strong and sensitive to impact-type motion - my left ankle was dangerously weak and jamming up to the point where I could hardly walk on it.
Frustration soon followed. And then it gave way to despair. But it was the humbling I needed to return to the Lord: to submit to Him, cleave to Him and cry out "I need You! I can't do this by myself. I'm drowning. Save me Lord!"
And He is faithful. He rescues us. He rescued me.
It's been a humbling month. It's been a challenging month... and this is only one part of it. I've longed for the summer sunshine (weather-wise and life-wise), but all I've had is grey clouds and raindrops... And yet sometimes God's "blessings come through raindrops." The darkness and the sunshine... they're both gifts from our Father. So I thank Him for the grey clouds, the raindrops and for nearly drowning. I cling to and claim the promises of His Word... that the good work He's begun in me, HE will bring to completion. And I keep my eyes open for all those rays of sunshine He brings me each day- both big and small.

Rewind. Review. Redeem.

Goodness gracious me! Is March really almost over? Where'd the time go?What a crazy past couple weeks, months... Ha! For that matter, what a crazy year it's been!
It's hard to believe I've been writing this blog for over a year now. Wow... and to think how absolutely opposed I was to starting it in the first place...
As many of you know, I'm an avid and somewhat prolific journaler (and if you didn't know, well, now you do!).
I have a whole drawer full of notebooks - hundreds of pages that are covered in my cursive scribble. But my journals aren't really a "Dear diary" sort of thing - rather the "Dear Heavenly Father," kind. But I don't know if I'd specifically label them "prayer" journals... They are prayers. And yet they're more than prayers... These journals are full of letters to my Papa God (a.k.a. Abba Father).
But how many of you have gone back and re-read e-mails (since no one handwrites letters anymore) you've sent? I'm guessing not many. Well the same is true of me and my letters to my Father.
I probably should. I'm sure it would be beneficial. No. More than beneficial... I'd get to see written testimony of prayers answered and character refined. But that's the kicker. In order to have character refined, you have to go from something bad to something better.
Now don't get me wrong... this isn't a Sika Pity-Party. But I'm just stating the fact that re-reading my journal is, in a word, painful. Maybe painfully embarrassing would be a better description. Reading all the silliness - the trivial and frivolous cares, desires and internal dialogue that took place in my heart and mind - and seeing that so many times Jesus was talking to me when He asked the disciples, "Where is your faith?", well it makes me blush just thinking about it.
And yet, those things weren't "trivial" or "frivolous" when I wrote them.
Instead of being ashamed of where I've been I should rejoice in where I am, rejoicing in the transformation that's come from the Spirit and being refined in the furnace of these "trivial" and "frivolous" afflictions.
So praise Jesus for this blog! Ha ha... I can't believe I'm praising Jesus for a blog! And yet that's exactly what's happening. Why? Because it's basically an easy access journal. A lot like my letters to Papa God, this blog contains many of the struggles I've faced, the lessons I've learned and the victories I've experienced, but written much more thoughtfully (and legibly). And besides, it's a lot less embarrassing to re-read. I can just go to the side bar and click on the same month last year and see where I was at - what I was going through, what the Lord was teaching me etc. And I have to say it's encouraging...
An example: Last February we were performing The Sleeping Beauty... this February it was Cinderella. Both are story ballets. In both ballets I got to dance a solo. Then I struggled with fear, insecurity, and wrestled with the fact that I only got one show of the Fairy of Wit. This year I confidently asked to learn the Season Autumn, and trusted the Lord would provide, and boy did He ever! One show? Try two! Similar situations and yet the manner in which they were handled couldn't have been more different.
Rewind, review and redeem... that's what it feels like. I re-read my blog posts and see the character refined. I see prayers answered. I see myself being transformed. And I humbly rejoice.

Thank You Papa God for Your Spirit. Thank You Papa God for this blog.

A dream is a wish your heart makes...

Do you know this tune?

A dream is a wish your heart makes
When you're fast asleep
In dreams you will lose your heartaches
Whatever you wish for, you keep
Have faith in your dreams and someday
Your rainbow will come smiling thru
No matter how your heart is grieving
If you keep on believing
the dream that you wish will come true

Although this wasn't my favorite song in this animated classic, it was and is and will always be my favorite Disney movie. Any guesses? Maybe this will spark your memory:



Surprise, surprise! Cinderella of course! If only I were that chipper in the morning. Maybe if I lived in a sweet tower and had birds and mice attending me... Then again, the thought of real birds flying around in my room gives me a mini panic attack. Seriously.

But is a dream a wish your heart makes when you're fast asleep? I don't know about you but I hardly ever remember my dreams. And yet I'm probably one of the biggest daydreamers I know - I mean I didn't get the nickname "Spacey" as a kid 'cause I wanted to be an astronaut... Nope. I dreamed that I'd be a ballerina. But in pursuing this dream, I didn't "lose [my] heartache," as the song says...
Year after year I'd audition for Nutcracker, and year after year I'd scan down the casting list, no "Anspach" to be found. But hope is strong in little hearts and dreams, persevering.
I was 9 and the year was 1994. My mom and I went to see my friends (and classmates) Kira Elste, Katie Lindstrom and Justine Sheedy perform in a ballet that once again I desperately wished I was a part of. Kira and Katie were Memory Children (Kira got to swing on a swing onstage - how cool is that?!!!) and Justine was a pumpkin. The ballet: Kent Stowell's Cinderella.
And as excited as I was to see my friends dance onstage, I was utterly mesmerized as the curtain rose to reveal the exquisite ballroom scene of the 2nd Act - the women dressed in these exquisite red tulle creations dancing with their handsome partners.
Just hours before I'd wanted to be a pumpkin, or even swing on a swing, but in that moment I dreamed of the day when I'd get to wear that red waltz dress and tiara and dance to that magical music.

Busted, bad-quality bathroom shot.
But at least you get the idea...

Well, today was the day. The dream that I wished did come true. It's been 17 years in the making but patience is a virtue, right? Well at the very least it's fruit the Lord's been cultivating in me.

So what happens when the dream comes true? Well you get a new one! And oh I have so many...
But this Cinderella ballet of "dreams-come-true"... well, it kind of inspires/perpetuates this habit of mine - dreaming that is.
So what's the wish my heart's making right now? It's a big wish. It's a big hope - almost as big as becoming a ballerina. But dare I speak it? Is Cinderella right? If I tell you will it not come true? Maybe if my faith is based on my dream and not on the One who gives it to me in the first place.

"Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart. Commit your way to the Lord; trust in Him and He will do this: He will make your righteousness shine like the dawn, the justice of your cause like the noonday sun. Be still and wait patiently for him;" ~ Psalm 37:4-7.

So I delight myself in the Lord. My hope and trust are found in Him alone, and I have faith in the Author of my dreams. Cause after all, "nothing is impossible with God."
And lastly, (often the hardest part of all) I ask... I ask Him someday that I might get to trade in my red tutu for a white one, my plain pink pointe shoes for beautiful bedazzled ones and that His righteousness in me would shine like the dawn. But in the meantime, while I wait patiently for Him, I praise and thank Him for the dreams that have come true. And I waltz in red.

If you haven't bought your tickets yet for Cinderella do it now! They're going fast and the clock's already rung once... 9 more shows before the magic and the beauty vanish (but hopefully not forever!). To buy them click here.
And if you have a dream - you keep on dreaming, and don't be afraid to ask. Trust the Lord! He'll work it out for your good and His glory!

Footage of my life

Was it only 10 days ago that I posted an update to this blog? Ha! Only...

"Only" is kind of unacceptable. And yet the past 10 days have seemed an eternity longer than the 240 hours that they've actually been. 

So... "Footage of my life", huh? 

Well if I were really being clever this post would be about caring for my disgusting feet, or explaining the mystery that are pointe shoes etc. - you know... something podiatric in nature. And, well, I guess in a very small way it does center around that- a shoe... a missing shoe. A missing slipper. A glass slipper. That's right folks... Cinderella! It's that time...

Kent Stowell's Cinderella. Photo © Angela Sterling. 

Fortunately for me the clock has not yet struck 12 - the dream it is to dance this ballet has not yet vanished. But we're now past the "just begun" stage and into "full swing" mode. My body is aching from the long six-hour rehearsal days I'm putting in, and my head is spinning from all the new choreography I'm trying to cram into my brain. And when I come home at night after eating dinner and some ibuprofen what do I do? I lay in bed, computer on my lap and I watch Cindy study tapes - with 6 different parts (two of which I asked to learn) it's easy for me to get counts and steps confused. I live, eat and breathe Cinderella. But I wouldn't have it any other way... I mean it's dancing people!!! Not only that, but it's Kent Stowell choreography, Prokofiev music and, well, it's Cinderella - every little girls dream, and the best fairy tale of all.

And as I get ready in the morning, ready to begin again, I practice my faces in the bathroom mirror. "Faces?" you might ask... Ha ha!!! Watch this YouTube video and you'll understand.

There's so much more to say about this beautiful ballet, but according to Pacific Standard Time the clock struck 12 long ago and this little step-sis must be getting some rest. So that's all for now... To buy your tickets to this exquisite, sometimes comical, but always magical production click here. But you'd better hurry - it's one you won't want to miss!

Disoriented in December

Can someone please tell me what day it is? Someone? Anyone? No seriously...

I woke up this morning and had absolutely no clue what the date was, what day it was or what time it was. Apparently I'd left my cell phone (a.k.a. my alarm clock) at the theater the night before, since not a peep was heard, not even its disturbingly obnoxious beeping sound.

And on driving home this evening I realized that the same thing has happened yet again.
"Cell phone? Where areee youuuuu?" I guess it decided to stay home...
But home these days is not the place where I sleep, the address that's on all my paychecks- the place that's generally considered "home." Nope.

These days I live in the realm, the alternate universe of Nutcracker. My home: the theater, a.k.a. Marion Oliver McCaw Hall. In this place date, time, day, night... they don't exist. Much like the movie Groundhog Day, every day is Christmas Eve... and Clara's getting a new Nutcracker.
I measure time by half-hour calls and massage/physical therapist arrival times. And meals? Forget it! I've flat-out stopped trying to label them "breakfast", "lunch" or "dinner"... I mean can you really call it lunch when you're eating it at 4:30/5pm? And can you really call it dinner when it's a big bowl of Honey Bunches of Oats at 10:30/11pm?

In the morning I arrive at the theater, take class, put makeup on my dried-out/breaking-out face (this seems oxymoronic, and yet my face proves that it is possible), dance and then do it all over again for the evening show... Between shows I'll go out to get some food and fresh air, but by this time it's already dark out. Returning back to the Black Hole (my other name for the theater) I'll eat, and then mess around either studying, embroidering cards, or practicing a variation till the therapist arrives or it's just time to begin again. Monotonous? A little. But I like predictability and stability... and did I forget to mention all the dancing and performing I get to do? Yeah, I definitely love that part of it. And besides, I have 11 different parts that break up the monotony and keep me on my toes... (okay really bad pun, but I just had to...)

Living in Nutcracker land is okay with me during the month of December, but problems arise when I have to re-enter the real world.... when lunch is at noon and dinner's at 7pm; when I have to be at work by 10am but had a show that ended at 10pm the night before. Sleepless in Seattle? Sort of. Disoriented in December? Definitely!

Well, to get a glimpse of my life in Nutcracker land, watch this great little video the very talented Lindsay Thomas created for PNB's youtube channel. And to experience the magic, buy your tickets here. We still have a week of shows left (including the always hilarious "Nutty" Nutcracker show at 4pm on Christmas Eve) and guess who gets to close this run of Nutcracker as the Peacock? Me, that's who!

And to you all out there: May the Lord bless you with the gift of His peace, rest and joy as you celebrate His birth - the greatest gift of all!  Merry Christmas!

Drum role please...

Well lots has happened in the last half a month, but I have a some big news I've waited 4 months to announce. That is till now. So...

Drum role please...

I, Jessika Christine Anspach am officially an authoress. I've been published!

Giddiness, excitement, pride and joy - I'm a dichotomous mix of proud parent and kid in a candy shop. But for the most part, I'm just really humbled and overwhelmed with a profound sense of gratitude for not only the opportunity to write and share my heart, but also for the encouragement, support and kind words so many have offered to me regarding this article. Words truly cannot express how blessed I've been.

So without further adieu...

Here is a link (although I strongly recommend purchasing a hard copy - it's really so much better with all the great photos and little tips from my other PNB cohorts) to my published article in the December issue of Dance Magazine appropriately titled "Surviving Nutcracker."


And that is what I aim to do, and why I must say "adieu." Tomorrow I get to be both the Ballerina Doll and the Peacock... it doesn't get much better than that! And on a Friday night too! Woo Hooo!!!!

Tune in for more very soon... there is oh so much to say, but a final must be taken before I can pass go and collect $200...

I hope you enjoy the article and I hope it inspires you to come to PNB's Nutcracker. You won't want to miss it!

I need new feet...

Raise your hand if after reading the title of this post you're:
a) agreeing with me,
b) laughing, or
c) all of the above.

Ballerinas are known for having beautiful legs, but our feet, well, they generally leave something to be desired...
Unsightly? Deformed? Disfigured? Yes, yes and yes!
Well if you put all your body weight on your toes what do you think's gonna happen?
We shop the aisles of the drugstore that generally are only frequented by the geriatric. I just spent $40.00 at Wallgreens buying corn-pads, bandaids, Vaseline, Second Skin (this gel-like stuff that's used for skin burns) and masking tape - all items necessary to get me through the first weekend of the All Tharp Rep we're finishing up this coming weekend.
I'm a "waterbaby" in Twyla Tharp's Waterbaby Bagatelles, and the combination of boureéing my toes into oblivion during the finale and wearing the flesh-dyed pointe shoes (who's boxes are coincidentally hardened by the dye) created the perfect atmosphere for disaster: the box of my pointe shoe literally sliced the big 'ol callous I'd built up on my pinky toe leaving a thick flap of flesh and an enormous gaping wound.
I didn't just have a blister on my pinky toe... my pinky toe was a giant blister. If only I had a picture... it would be a nice post-halloween scare for you all.
It's therefore not a surprise that I, Jessika Anspach, am notorious at PNB for having the ugliest feet in the company (and for wearing my pointe shoes the longest, but that's for another post). Now that's saying a lot!
So are all my shoes closed-toed? Ha! I'm sure there are people who wish they were... Nope. I unabashedly wear my flip-flops or gladiator sandals in summer. I mean hopefully people are looking at my face and not my feet. And for the most I try not to care what other people think. For the most part...

But there are some days when I wish I had some new feet. And there are some days when I know I need new feet... but not in the way you're thinking. You see there's someone else who's a lot like me:

"In the first place she was a cripple with feet so crooked that they often caused her to limp and stumble as she went about her work.  She had also the very unsightly blemish of a crooked mouth which greatly disfigured both expression and speech and was sadly conscious that these ugly blemishes must be a cause of astonishment and offense to many who knew she was in the service of the great Shepherd." 

Her name is Much-Afraid. She is me. I am her. Her story is told in Hinds Feet on High Places, a story that I'll be working my way through this year as we both (Much-Afraid and I) make our journey toward the High Places, having our crooked mouths corrected and our crippled unsightly feet transformed to hinds feet.
You'll be hearing much more about Much-Afraid and me. And you'll be reading many more snippets of this book. Why? Because, well, it pierces my heart... it cuts right through the thick of it. It says what I cannot. And hopefully it speaks to you too.
And so the journey begins...

"The Lord God is my strength and he will make my feet like hinds' feet, and he will make me walk upon mine high places." Habakkuk 3:19

Commencements and Recurrences

Wait what? It's September 23rd? No... It can't be. Seriously?! Where did the time go?

It's hard to believe that tomorrow marks the opening of PNB's 2010-2011 (O-ten, O-eleven as I like to call it) season. I don't know about you but it feels like summer didn't happen... Like I somehow missed it.
Summer, where did you go? Oh that's right... you went to Vail, CO for the Vail International Dance Festival. You were chalk-full of learning new ballets and revisiting old ones. Some of these we won't be performing till March, and some you will see tomorrow if you're fortunate enough to catch our opening night. Maybe you even caught a glimpse of it tonight at dress rehearsal. If you did, you were lucky indeed!

Director's Choice is definitely a choice Rep. Think Grade A grass-fed fillet mignon. Yes, folks it's that good. (Not sure what the vegetarian equivalent would be... someone want to help me out here?)
And it too is full of chalk, wigs, foils, black dresses and bright unitards - just to name a few. Believe me the list could go on... You'll see some things old, and some things new; some borrowed costumes and a little bit of blue. And the "things new" I think you'll love. I sure do.
Much like Petite Mort, Sechs Tänze, the newest Jiri Kylian ballet added to PNB's repetoire, is set to the beautiful music of Mozart, and boy is it ever musical! The choreography matches the score perfectly, with its very precise, and intricate motions punctuating this piece. There are commas, question marks, ellipsis', and exclamation points in the form of backward soutenus, shoulder shrugs, awkward glances and pelvic thrusts. Watch it and you'll see what I mean. I don't want to ruin it for you, but just be prepared to LOL - yes, it's okay to do this at the ballet... no one will sneer and give you the stink eye. At least I hope not!
As I sat in the audience tonight watching my co-workers dance their hearts out in both Sechs Tänze and Petite Mort there were times when I had to remind myself to breathe. I was utterly enthralled and the little bunhead inside of me was screaming, "Ooooh! Someday I want to dance that!" And I hope someday I will. I wonder if your reaction will be the same.
But dance I did. Dance I do - in what I can only describe as a ballet that epitomizes the dancer's dance. It's 80's ballet and I love it. It's Jerome Robbins' Glass Pieces.
Set to the minimalist music of composer Philip Glass, you can't help but tap your foot, nod your head or "insert twitch of choice" to the pulsing beat of this music that propels this ballet forward - or should I say back to a time when sweatbands, spandex and step-aerobics were all the rage. And spandex you will see... well, I guess technically it's lycra, but you get the picture. Let's just say these costumes are utterly unforgiving. Designed to resemble a dancer's practice clothes, I don't know anyone these days who'd actually wear what we wear in the studio... But I suppose it could be worse. The first movement of this ballet is supposed to resemble Grand Central Station at rush hour. With a mob of dancers walking from wing to wing, unitard-clad soloists fearlessly leap and bound through the crowd, almost like those sidewalk prophets screaming amid the clamor of the busy NYC streets proclaiming the message of dance, the beauty of ballet.
The third movement belongs to the corps. It's energetic. It's exhilarating. It's heart pounding so hard you think you might throw-up. But let me tell you it's oh-so rewarding. So much so that you forget about the lycra. You forget about everything else and you let your body eat up that grey Marley floor. You feed off the energy of those around you and you dance. It's amazing.
But the second movement... All I can say is "Wowza!" This is the principal's movement. I wish I could tell you a little more about it, but to be honest I've only caught glimpses of it. You see I'm in the unending train of corps women that hypnotically chug along the back of the stage in silhouette. A mixture of walking, side-stepping, rocking and pliéing this part oddly requires quite a bit of concentration, and a flexible left calf. Mine has not been so amenable.
So with the commencement of a new season I find not only recurrences in ballet's we've previously performed (Petite Mort and Jardí Tancat), but also ice-baths. Yes. They've returned. And we still love to hate each other. But deep down, I think ice-baths and I are coming to have a mutual regard for each other. There exists an understanding between us: I commit to the relationship, and ice-baths let me dance. Not a bad trade off, considering the dancing we get to do in this Rep is pretty awesome.

Some water with my ice? Yes please!

Benik toe caps are an absolutely essential part of any ice-bath... that is unless you're icing your toes. Then, well, sucks for you.

This is the face of "Ouch!"

So I know you must be asking yourself, "Where can I buy tickets to see these amazing ballets?" Well right here! And if you're on the fence I hope this blog post has pushed you over. I mean all this pain I put myself through is for you. Okay, well not exactly but you get my drift... :)
Just come... I promise you won't regret it!

Vail "Vacation" Part II in photos

Sorry, sorry, sorry...

It's been so long since I updated this. Yikes. My bad.
We'll I'm actually on vacation now - 2 weeks off, and I can't tell you how necessary this time is, mainly for the preservation of my sanity. I was chatting with my pastor's wife last Sunday and she so sweetly said to me, "Your life is never lacking drama" - or something to that effect. And as much as I would like to say otherwise, I've resigned myself to the fact that this is the truth. This week has not been an exception to this truth. In fact this has been a Struggles the Cat week. 


But I digress...

So here is the second installment of Vail "vacation" in photos. I write "vacation" because it wasn't a true vacation - we most certainly did work, and the work we did wasn't easy - but when we did have some time off, we definitely enjoyed ourselves in this affluent little resort town. So here are little snapshots (literally) of our tour to Vail, CO. Enjoy!

Waiting at Sea-Tac. I'm hanging out on the carpet with the babies - Shmelsea (Chelsea Adomaitis) and Shmanda (Amanda Clark).

Buckle up! It's up, up and away - off to Denver, CO. Can't you tell we're excited?

My view for the majority of the flight... well not quite. But I guess there are worse things to look at than Andrew's underwear.

"Would you like to sit next to a ballerina?" said the flight attendant to a little 6 year-old girl who sat next to Liora.

Dancers congregating in the aisles. The flight attendants sure loved us. Thank goodness we had Ezra with us to smooth things over. 

After waiting for James to go all the way back through the Denver airport security to claim a bag he left on the plane we finally board the bus that will take us to our final destination: Vail. 

Carli Samuelson and Will Lin-Yee. They make such a cute couple.

Abby Relic and Barry Kerollis. They're a couple too - just not the romantic type.

A third couple? Nope that's just Bartells (Andrew Bartee) and Lovey-Dovey (Emma Love).

Jerry rocking out on the keys.

Looks like BK needed a nap.

Potty break! Enter Georgetown. No, this is not a mistake - we're still in CO not D.C. 

Abby what are you doing there on the ground?

Ohhh... gotcha. Girlfriend get that gas out. That's no bueno holdin' it in. Just not on the bus.

Finally we arrive! Our home for the next 6 days and 5 nights would be Manor Vail. It was lovely, although the décor left something to be desired. Oh yeah, and air-conditioning would have been nice too. But I have to say Abby and Barry won the prize for the "best" room. And by best I mean so bad it's good.

Ahhh! I don't know what's scarier... the fact that there's a Christmas tree with a huge bear in their room or Barry's face.

I take it back. Hands down, the most frightening thing in their room were the Granny panties that Barry found under the humidifier. Why would you pick those up? Why?

In Vail, we have this tradition of going to this amazing restaurant. You could almost call it a pilgrimage the food is that good. It's called Kelly Liken. Go there. We did. And it was yummy. But I think you can tell that from our faces. Oh and Barry needed some Chapstick.

High School Musical? Nope. Just class and rehearsals in the Vail Mountain School Gymnasium. However the floor resembled more an ice-skating rink than a ballet studio.

Chillin' on the bleachers. We're all a little tired.

And begin Square Dance finale. I'm so not envious.

Sarah and Chal waiting for 3 Movements rehearsal to start.

There were two other photos of these three but this one was the only one that wasn't blurry. Boo busted camera.

After rehearsal I decided to go to soak in some Vitamin D while working on a paper. The "teenage ghetto" decided to join me. As you can imagine I got a lot of work done.

Work those sickled feet!

It looks like Andrew's baptizing Amanda...

Either that or drowning her. (In reality I believe they're playing some sort of game called "categories" made up by Mandy - I'm too old for these things...)

Saturday. The big day. And this is where we took class, rehearsed and performed. It's pretty amazing. Absolutely loved dancing outside. It was glorious!

Not-so-dressed Dress rehearsal. This is the male solo of Balanchine's Square Dance. That-a-boy Ben!

Get that attitude Carli! With the slow shutter speed of my camera it truly is a miracle I captured this moment.

And fast-forward to Sunday. Program 2. Barry and I getting ready for some "Cool." We're giving you some fierce face here. My hair on the other hand is not so hot, much like the temperature... but I'll save that little tidbit story for next time...

Juvenile delinquents. But Leah definitely has on my favorite dress. But no complaints about my attire. It's definitely the Anthro outfit of the West Side Story Suite lot. 

And we're done! Time for the after-party. Abby's doing Barry's crazy hair while he drinks a Bud Light and eats Carrots. Interesting combo... Don't think I'd go for it, but more power to you BK.

And didn't Abby do a great job? He wanted it crazy and that's what he got. We are such the odd couple in this photo. Crazy windswept slightly emo man with conservative polished Anthro girl. I love it! And I hope you loved these photos too. 

The End.