Wednesday, August 4, 2004

at the barre

i was seven, maybe eight years old, when my parents nudged me toward cultural enlightenment, allowing me to choose between piano lessons and ballet. a romantic soul even at that tender age, and harbouring a huge and hopeless crush on rudolf nureyev, i chose the latter.
for three years i did my absolute emotive best: as a dewdrop, a daisy, a dwarf. i pliéd and pirouetted my way faithfully through saturday mornings, enthusiastic but lamentably inadequate. i was not a natural talent.
i firmly believe that regrets are a waste of time, but i do wonder sometimes if i might have benefited more from the "chopsticks" and "für elise" route. probably not. i certainly can't carry a tune vocally.
as it is, looking back, what i recall most vividly about those weekends isn't the locale and the lessons, but the wait afterwards: gloriously alone and trusted in lattimer's drug store, perched on a rotating stool at the counter, socks slipping, sipping soda through a straw.
that memory alone is worth the choice i made.


  1. I usually don't think much of captions for photos (your little essays are completely different), but when I saw your alt tag (threshold) for this and thought of it with the picture, something mystical happened. I actually imagined a type of child seriously venturing into the new world of music -- kind of "find hope, ye who enter here."
    This is a wonderful way to start the day!

  2. wonderful story lynn
    you see something and dream away
    enjoyed your image, savoured your words...

  3. ~I am a firm believer in never regretting the choices one makes in their life, you can always look back and think about what may have been, but what is important are the choices you make in the here and now, those are the ones that affect the days ahead...the most important days, the future....hindsight provides an open window for opportunity sometimes~

  4. Beautiful photo and story. I chose piano lessons as a child, and then ended up taking ballet as a young adult. It's never too late to try new things, and I completely agree... regrets are total waste of time...the truest form of art is the art of the possible.

  5. what a powerful sentiment. the other day at the river, the kids and I were watching the ducklings, with maturing feathers and doubled in size since the spring. two were separated from their mother, quacking urgently to find her. the mother was not rushing to be with them, nor was she quacking back. instead, she gently glided upstream so she was in simply view. order was restored. it made me realize that slowly we need to let our young ones venture out independently in this world. what a better way to start than with a soda. have a great weekend Lynn.