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'.



Wednesday, October 13, 2010

First Ballet Injury

A few weeks ago, I was stepping off an excersise machine (I acctually hadn't been doing any excersise)
and I felt my ankel pull and do a weird clicky thing. I wasn't too concerned until it became so painful that I couldn't walk on it. I went to the doctor, he told me it was just a repetitive strain injury and to rest it.
I went to my physio to see if she could help me any furthur. She couldn't really tell what it was but said it could be an archilles injury.
This worried me a bit because archilles injuries can be extremely drastic for dancers. If the archilles tears or ruptures then it can be the end of their career, for me it would be the end of the world.
I couldn't dance for a week or so and this ment that
I didn't have enough preparation to do my ballet exam even if the mysterious 'injury' did get better.
To cut a long story short, I didn't do my exam but I have the oppourtunity to do it early next year
(which turns out to be a good thing because the sequel to Phantom of the Opera is starting in that place then, I think it is called Love Never Dies)
It also turns out that the pain was probaly due to the fact that I am a slow grower and there is still cartillage in my heel that hasn't turned to bone yet. I was told to rest it for a few more weeks but that was really disapointing because there is a competition on this weekend and it will be the last year that I will be able to enter and we have also started rehersals for our ballet school's concert
(keep an eye on this space for more info)
So this week I decided to do my best at ballet and see how much I was able to do and go from there.
I was absolutely amazed. I had no pain what-so-ever.
Mysterious 'injury' gone, with just as much mystery as it came.
Odd.
Anyway, now I can do the competition, see Love Never Dies and I still get to do my exam.
Through the days that I wasn't allowed to dance I realised more than ever that
I don't just want to dance, I need to dance.

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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