I remember taking ballet classes and they were in the evenings. I would walk there as it was taught by a former Rockette who lived on street away and two houses down from my friend's house. It was always evening, light enough for me to walk there safely, but as the lesson progressed, night fell giving the ballet lesson an odd eery feeling. The dance room was bright with one wall completely mirrored so we can see our young pre-pubescent bodies attempting to imitate the teacher. I had flat feet and had no business learning ballet, no arch is a big no-no in ballet. The teacher was tall, hair in a yellow tinged bun, penciled eye brows, painted pink lips, smelling of cigarette smoke. She was a mysterious character and never got personal in conversation. It was half ballet and half tap dancing. I, of course, loved the tap dancing but it was way harder than I thought it would be. I would get upset with my self when my left foot couldn't do the double slap like my right foot could. Huh.
Memories of pre-teen years.
It was kind of cool, thrilling, creepy and fun to take ballet and tap lessons from a former Rockette and going home in the dark after.
