Category: adventure

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I Hope You Dance

Five years. I’ve been posting here for five years.

In June of 2012, I decided to share my dance experience with the big, wide world. I thought that it would be a lot of fun to keep a record of my adventures in pre-professional balletland. I never dreamed that I would one day be able to watch myself evolve from a wannabe professional dancer into an author who loves to dance.

This blog has been many things to me, but looking at it today, it is only one thing: a gift. Plain and simple. I will forever remember where I came from and how I got here.

Who I am today has been influenced–in very large part–by my family, both immediate and adoptive. These five years have turned my dearest friends into sisters and brothers. They’ve turned my teachers into mentors. My passion for dance could never have existed or continued to exist without these people.

Here, I must admit that I’m hesitant to post this because I’m terrible at goodbyes. So, I’ll give you an update instead.

I am currently apprenticing with Ms. Sara in Pre-Training, learning the ins and outs of her teaching style that has made such an impact on my life. If I tried to sum up everything she’s taught me… well… I couldn’t. And I’m kind of trying not to cry, so here come the facts. The scary facts first, I suppose.

My family is moving again. Duh duh duhhhh (like you didn’t see that coming, amiright?)

Beginning in October, I will be apprenticing with Praxis, a nine-month-long entrepreneurial program. I plan to take both Advanced Worship and Advanced Modern this coming year, at least until the commute between work and the studio becomes impossible (but hey, you’re welcome to pray with me that that doesn’t happen!).

Happy fact, though: Praxis requires me to have a personal website. So, rather than saying goodbye, just meet me over here. Same me, new feel.

Still, I want my last words here to mean something. I’m 99% sure that this is how I ended my last post, but these are the words in my heart today, so I’m going to say them again.

When you get the choice to sit it out or dance, I HOPE YOU DANCE.

And I’ll do the same.

Know every day that I appreciate you, lovely dancers, more than words could ever express. Thank you for your loyalty and your love. You have mine.

Always,

Aquinnah xoxo

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Recital 2017 (The One where I Graduate)

Even after weeks of careful planning, I still don’t know how to sum up this year… especially Recital. It came as it always does– with great anticipation. And it left as it always does, too– with many tears. For most of an entire day, I actually allowed myself to believe that my life post performance could go on as if nothing had changed, but as I watched my extended family and family friends drive away from their first trip to Colorado in years, I realized that my “normal” is no longer mine. It doesn’t even exist in my world anymore. For 12 years, minus summers, I’ve woken up to school. For several years, I’ve chased that with work. And for nearly 14 years, I’ve danced. And while I will no doubt continue to learn and grow, while being a productive member of society is important to me, while I will still dance–always–these things will never again be what they were before I graduated. Scary, huh?

It’s been a hectic, wonderful, exhausting, glorious month of dancing… and some other great stuff, too, which I’ll talk more about in a different post. I’m so grateful to my family, friends and teachers who unfailingly show me love, grace and support. Without them [and as generic and cheesy as it sounds], I would not be the person I am today. My parents have consistently taught me that change is inevitable, and even though it totally freaks me out, I’m glad to be entering this new chapter with 17 years of real life experience. So, thank you, Mom and Dad, for showing me what it means to keep moving forward and make a life.

Recital itself was, as Moriah put it, “anointed.” Strength and Dignity was the best it had ever been on Friday night. Pulling off such a hugely intricate dance always feels like a divine miracle, and this year was no different. As for Advanced Modern, people are still talking about the sheer lack of bamboo staff-dropping that went down in hushed, reverent tones. Darkness is Losing had the auditorium in tears during Intermission.

And my senior solo happened.

I think I expected to cry. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. It would’ve been too real. Instead, I relished in the intensely unfamiliar feeling of being onstage alone, of telling my story without speaking. I think I was glad when it was over, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to listen to “Welcome Home (You)” again, but I’m just so happy to have done it.

So, all in all, it was a fantastic weekend. But we called it “Show Week.” Yes, dress rehearsals. Yes, Recital. But the stuff in between is what turns friends into family and moments into experiences. On Tuesday, the seniors got together to create our senior gift– decorations for backstage and a note for each person in the Beauty in Motion Showcase. On Friday afternoon, we found out that our studio will be moving to a gorgeous new location next year and threw ourselves a party. Then, the seniors lead a worship time for anyone willing to participate. We prayed, and we cried, and hugged and cried some more. And then we danced, and sang, and screamed and cheered.

After the shows, my family turned my house into a flower garden and stuffed me full of cupcakes. *bows*

I honestly have to wonder, though, why anyone would not choose to dance. At least once. Just for that fraction of a second when time stops, and the whole world is alive with music. Just to be a part of something so different and so moving. That love is ingrained in me; I can’t get rid of it. So, even though I’m cutting my hair short on Thursday because no more ballet bun, I have just one thing left to say.

The next time you get a choice, I hope you dance.

Aquinnah

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God Does Know How to Tie Shoes

m14-1Nancy White Carlstrom first asked of me the question, “Does God know how to tie shoes?” to which I astutely replied, “I don’t know; I’ll have to finish the book.”

I was lying in bed several weeks ago when thoughts of the horrors which Chemistry inflicts upon the average high school student, punctuated by a comfortable feeling that I was soon to be rid of it for a few weeks of travel, were all at once interrupted by another, less familiar idea. Yes, Aquinnah, I do know how to tie shoes.

That was a nice thought… for a four-year-old. The God of the universe can tie shoes. So can I. But could He survive Chemistry and still make it to ballet class on time (and with a scrap of sanity)? Come to think of it, could He fill out those college applications, sitting in a dauntingly organized pile upon my desk? They would not have been there anyway, if not for that October morning of late when all I could think was, I have to go. I have to go to college. I want to go to college. Could He fit in 30 minutes of piano practice, getting up the guts to put that driver’s license to use and actually drive, working, eating, sleeping, laundry-doing, reading, writing, unpacking, packing…?

Yes, Aquinnah, I do know how to tie shoes.

Great.

So, I managed my list as best as I could, reminding myself from time to time that God can tie shoes and wondering what exactly that meant.

I toured three very different colleges over the course of about a week. I was all prepared to Rory Gilmore up some pro-con lists, to find my future home, but when it came down to it, I knew. I know that when the time comes, my home will find me. They always have. I’ve put my brain into those applications, but my heart has stitched itself into the facts on its own. It can’t help it!

I was appreciating a sunrise over the lake near my grandpa’s house, letting go of that which is out of my hands, when it finally came to me. I’ll give you a hint.

God knows how to tie shoes.

The simplest of simple, human duties– and He knew. He cared. And if God cared about tying shoes, the simple duty, the running-out-the-door science, then He cared about the overwhelming death of that one book character that was breaking my heart, the disorganization of traveling and that little spark of hope inside of me that dared to believe that I really wanted that one thing that I’d been afraid of for so long and that had found me anyway.

So, as I read Carlstrom’s famous question again, I say, “Yes, God does know how to tie shoes.”

In the words of Anne Shirley, “I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.”

Aquinnah

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A New Beginning

M12Though a time of fallen things, this autumn will represent a new beginning for me. A new home on a new street (and just three minutes from someone very dear to my heart), new school courses and dance classes, new teachers and new perspectives are all just around the bend. My writing style seems to be changing against my will, my thought process evolving into one that is incessantly grasping for more– more answers, more knowledge, more patience, more peace. I want to be fluent in French, and play the piano and read books until my eyes pop out. And way ahead of the infamous Board, I have my college list made, my essays drafted, and one day soon, I’ll be ready to audition for a certain dance department. I’m locking the gate after the horse, but I haven’t posted quite as often this year as I have in years past, so I suppose I’m making up for it.

Change isn’t easy. But I’m ready for it this time.

In all reality, I was not expecting to update this blog. I wasn’t ready. I would never have been ready. But circumstances outside of my control have lead me here–to this fresh journal space–and I’m so pleased to be sharing with you the new Dancing Angel. My writings of the past five years remain here, though my formatting up until this post might look a little wonky. My ramblings and my pictures are intact, and you’re here, and that’s what matters.

Take a look around! There’s a lot to see. If you’ve never visited before, welcome! It’s so good to have you. My bio and contact information are in the left sidebar, along with my archives. And there’re a lot of good books and songs listed, too. You’ll notice that I am no longer connected to Google+, but never mind that. New beginnings all around, and here’s to them!

“It’s been my experience that you can nearly always enjoy things if you make up your mind firmly that you will.” – Anne Shirley

xo Aquinnah 

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Summer Then and Summer Right Now

Summer at the end of May was a whirlwind– the beginning of change. I completed my junior year of high school and friends graduated. And I, in June, and despite my valiant efforts to ignore the fact, began my last summer at the studio.

June taught me to cope with the changes. Senior year can’t possibly be any more difficult than junior year, right? And true friends, even when apart, remain true in the end. Every day of my life is a testament to that. Likewise, dance remains dance, and I feel incredibly blessed to have experienced another summer at the studio, with my beloved family. I wouldn’t trade the past seven weeks for all the time in the world.
July had a few bumps, but I was able to attend the Desperation Conference with thousands of other teens, and it was there that I found within myself a Holy Spirit who called me, “fearless” and “free.” How beautiful it is to worship a God who can make the fearful brave.
One week into August, I am walking in the certainty that I am never alone. Thursday, Friday and Saturday, you could find me worshiping alongside my sisters at Gather, for our last performance of Daylight. It was an honor and a joy to meet so many new faces and to praise with them all. Thanks to Ms. Tina, Miss Athena, Miss Cheri and Ms. Sara for an eye-opening three days.
Summer right now is cardboard boxes and packing tape for my family’s twelfth move. It’s college applications, and senior solos and mixed emotions. All in all though, summer right now is pretty near perfect.

xoxo

Gather

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Presenting Leaps and Turns Magazine

Leaps and Turns Website

It’s been a hectic month! Dance classes have begun (i.e. sore muscles), I’m filling out college applications and yes, of course we’re being entrepreneurial again!

As our [very beautiful– check it out] website so eloquently puts it…

Leaps and Turns Magazine is a purposefully unique publication, the first of its kind in the region, and it serves to promote and encourage the performing arts in Colorado Springs through print and online media. Leaps and Turns features people, places, performances and the many industry related services the area has to offer. The Leaps and Turns team strives to connect the performing arts community, while inspiring creativity in our friends and neighbors.

On our website, you’ll have the opportunity to review our Media Kit and submit your display advertisement or local event advertisement. You’ll also be able to read some notes from the editor (yours truly, very excited!) and, if you live out of town, read a web addition of the print magazine.

Our Premier Issue hits Colorado Springs dance and music studios, theater training centers, performance venues, cafes and coffee shops, supermarkets, organic markets, university campuses, community centers, public libraries and visitor centers in October of 2016. Ad reservation deadline is July 18th! Click here to learn more about display advertising options and here to learn about event listing options.

The Leaps and Turns team is beyond excited at this opportunity to shine a light on the unmatched beauty of the performing arts. To follow along as we prepare for the launch of our first issue, visit our Facebook or Instagram page @leapsandturns.

Promoting and encouraging the performing arts in Colorado Springs– presenting, Leaps and Turns Magazine. This is just the beginning of an epic adventure.

Aquinnah
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Five Years of Ceaseless Adventure

I want to go. And I want to be human.

The beauty and eternal wonder of this earth–such a colorful, growing, changing earth–inspire my own creativity as the Creator makes for me a new adventure every single day. My name was written on His heart before I knew it myself, and I wanted to know it. My dreams, desires, fears and idiosyncrasies are always teaching me more and more about the living, breathing Aquinnah, in the midst of space and time. Like the earth, I’m always growing, always changing and adapting. It’s not always easy, not always fun– but it is a part of being human, and I am. I am only human. And I’m proud of that.

It is an overwhelming joy to wake up to a family who loves and cares for me, who is near even when far and who inspires me to continue growing and persevering, even when it’s hard. It is an enormous blessing to have friends who are honest with me, who stand up for me and who put up with my oddities on a daily basis in person, over the phone and through mail. It is an honor to learn from teachers who invest so much into making me stronger, healthier and generally happier. It is mind-boggling to know that you, my readers, from all over the world, have continued to read and support me for the last five years of my journey. I could never, never thank each beautiful person in my life enough for being. Just being. Being themselves, being in my heart and being human with me.

We survived Cecchetti exams, assistant teaching, Nutcracker, master classes and intensives, five pairs of pointe shoes, photo shoots, uncountable rehearsals and performances, sickness and injury, Firebird, an internship, tens of books and four birthdays. We thrived. And we’re not finished.

I live to scream without making a sound, moving out of time and into music. I love it. I wanted to come, and I wanted to dance. I want to inspire people as they inspire me.

So, thank you for five years of scribblings, and excitement, and worry and triumph. Thank you for listening without hearing my voice and following along with me as I continue to grow. This blog is a piece of my world– memories. And I hope you’ve enjoyed reading about them almost as much as I’ve loved living and writing about them.

Happy summer, lovelies! Twenty-three hours until dance. Ceaseless adventure.

This post is dedicated to the 125,000 beautiful babies who said, “I want to go,” and, today, were robbed of their chance and to Miss Bethanny, who told me to put chocolate milk in my cereal.

Much love,

I11.1