It's all about me...

I'm Indea (I-N-D-E-A not the country).
I love: ballet, books, chocolat(e), pasta, sushi, old fashioned romance novels, Twilight, bagals, crossiants, France, anything Frenchish, Alice in Wonderland, art, creativity, card making, pretty skirts, masquerade balls, over-the-top dresses from Marie Antoinette's time or the late 1800s, frankie magazine, Dance Australia magazine, Indigo magazine, Lindt chocolate, Anvers chocolate, lentil/vege burgers, Burger Got Soul, Paris, typewriters, The Vintage Rose, Ruby's Room, Store & Co., Mackie G, extravagance, cutesy things, tutus, fancy hair, dressing up, finding something in a shop that you just have to have and discovering that you have money to spare (i.e. birthday money), holidays to Melbourne, picnics, Kiki K, Smiggle, French stationary, going out, my bedroom, the colour red, writing stories, taking photos, organising birthday parties (especially mine), having birthday paries, jewellery, my feather ring and my resin flower ring, Jaffas, milkbottles, dreams, being 'away with the fairies'.



Saturday, August 21, 2010

Still Hungry...But Happy!

On an empty stomach I headed off to the D.E.C.C to compete in the Eisteddfod for ballet. Not the smartest idea...but everything was fine. After extreme make-up application and my hair being pulled so tight that I looked almost bald, I warmed-up. I was competitor no. 8 (out of 11) so I was lucky enough to have a few people before me come off stage and mention the fact that the stage was really slippery (it's all the jazz and tap people's fault). I resined (sticky suff to help you not slip in pointe shoes) my shoes and resined again, and again, and again just to be on the safe side! My turn to dance and I was still doing last minute resining. It was a bit slippery (I din't fall over, thanks to the resin!) but I finished the dance and ran back to my friends on the other side of the stage who had already danced. There were a few more competitors whose dances seemed to last forever and then - the results.
This is the part where I uually get a bit nervous, if I do then I know it's a good sign.
As soon as second place was announced, and I didn't have a place by then, I knew who would get first.
Me. And I was right, I won! YAY! I got first place for my classical solo! I also got second last night for my demi-character dance! Not bad, hey?
Next up...Launceston Festival of Dance! Can't wait!
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I Dance For It All

I wrote this poem for the Original Poetry section of the Eisteddfod and recieved 3rd place for it.

I Dance For It All
By Indea Quinn

]Bodies bustling about, nervous voices chattering in whispered tones
All cast, this is your five minute call
The potent scent of sticky hairspray fills my lungs as I breathe in
The hair pins holding my tiara on feel like a thousand knives
Make up coats my face, barely recognisable in the mirror
Thick black false lashes frame my eyes, I can feel them brushing my rouged cheeks as I blink
Waiting in the wings
A few practice relevés to calm the butterflies, threatening to overflow
The buzzing voices of the expectant audience lower to a hush
Programmes are set down as the lights dim
Every seat is filled, its occupant on the edge
Breath held in anticipation, eager eyes glued to the stage.
The rippling red velvet curtain rises
Darkness
Then, a single beam of light shines through the never ending black
The conductor raises his baton and the music begins, softly at first
The sound of the full orchestra fills my ears
As if by instinct, I begin to dance
I forget my straining muscles, blistering and bloody feet
I forget the audience and where I am
I forget my costume, the cream coloured tulle and corseted satin bodice
The music crescendos and with it my dance
Grand jetés, sweeping pour de bras
Stunning arabesques en pointe
and a manége to end all manéges
The audience erupts, rising to their feet to give a standing ovation
My heart racing, I am certain the front row can hear its pounding rhythm
Its all I can do to keep a gentle smile, to refrain from grinning and letting my joy escape
I sink low into a gracious curtsy and exit the stage with the taste of glory on my tongue
The rest of the show races before my eyes
I get lost in my character, I am no longer myself
Her pain is my pain, her happiness is my happiness
Act One; the story begins
Act two; devastation,
Act three; Grand pas de deux with its breathtaking lifts and romance
And the finale where everyone comes together, dancing until the very end
Pain, extravagance, performing
Making people believe in what they see, feel what I am feeling
I dance for it all