Jaycee Snelson-Week 4: Dance
Jaycee Snelson-Week 4: Dance
Dance
For 8 years dance was my life. I would perform a plethora of styles from contemporary to musical theater (yes, it is an actual form of dance). I would spend countless hours at the dance studio perfecting multiple routines and getting them ready for competitions. When I wasn’t dancing I was doing homework or playing in the studio until my next dance class. Spending early mornings into late afternoons performing and cheering on dance after dance. I was living, eating, breathing dance. But, I slowly phased out of the competitive dance world as I found other passions I wanted to explore.
Dance
Growing up I remember watching dancing with the stars with my grandma. Every week I would go to her house and spend an hour mesmerized by the dances performed. Watching as each pair conquered the theme of the night in so many different ways. Praying that my favorite pro and his partner would be safe to dance again the following week. Dreaming of the day when I would become famous so I too could dance on the show. Watching the show together became our special bond that I will always remember.
Dance
Although it is not a large part of my life now, I will never stop loving dance. The word itself holds so many of my earliest memories. The bonds I made. The friends I lost. The life I used to live. They all stemmed from that one word. So, I will always remember and cherish the memories associated with the word. And dance will always have a special place in my heart.
Jaycee, I truly loved reading this blog post. As a dancer myself, I found myself agreeing wholeheartedly to everything you had to say about this wonderful art form. The idea of “living, eating, breathing dance” is something that I experience much too often and as exhausting as it is, I would not give it up for anything in the world. I also love that beyond the act of dancing itself giving you powerful memories, it carries into the memories you hold with your grandma. The structure of your last paragraph is truly powerful; the repeated short sentences really emphasize how many aspects of your life dance played a role in. This blog has reminded me of all the things I have to be grateful about when it comes to being able to call myself a dancer.
ReplyDeleteThe image you included at the end of a ballerina struck an incredibly deep chord with me. Once upon a time in my life, I was wildly passionate about ballet. I dreamed of becoming a professional dancer at a world-renowned company and spending half of my adulthood doing something I loved every day, much like how you dreamed of becoming famous. As I grew older, I grew heartbroken as that love and passion slowly dissipated, and personal circumstances made it more difficult to go to class. It’s a canon event for people who grew up dancing—we burn bright when we’re young, and we watch that light die as we grow up. Sometimes I still look back at my old performances at wonder what could have been, and I’m sure you do that too. It’s a very strange and sentimental feeling, letting dance be a part of your life when you once wanted it to be your life entirely.
ReplyDeleteJaycee, this blog post is so beautiful! I really appreciate your experiment with organization here, splitting the paragraphs after “Dance” gave me the mental image of going through different Polaroid photos of the past. It also makes it seem like a mantra with a heartbeat-like rhythm. Your selected photograph is also gorgeous. I recently read an issue of Parabola (magazine for mythology class) called “The Shadow,” and there was a line in one of the featured essays talking about how art leaves a shadow, and seeing the ballerina made all the more brighter by the shadow evokes a nostalgic, longing feeling that lines up with what you said about wanting to cherish the memories. I have experimented in dance before and have close friends who adore it, hearing your enduring love for it is truly inspiring!
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