The Day of Berry

For those who don't know yet, Berry is my goddaughter, my baby brother Lucas' first (and so far only) child. She loves Minute Maid orange juice, spaghetti noodles and ensaymada. She also loves to dance. The first time she danced, she was inside her mommy's tummy while mommy was watching me, my siblings and my family's ballet school perform Don Quixote at the Insular Life Auditorium. Seriously, as the entrada started, Erica's tummy started pounding as if there was a furious basketball inside.

She spent the day with us today, she arrived at our ballet school as I started class for our second level kids; she was wearing her tights, ballet shoes and a ballet skirt made of tulle. When I started rehearsals for this year's recital, she walked over to me and held my hand. So when my students started rehearsing, she was dancing with them also, sorta. Mostly she walked around as the students carefully danced around her, sometimes holding my hand, sometimes on her own. She would also stand in the midst of the girls doing skips and ballet runs, sometimes shaking her hips and shoulders. Since we're doing The Nutcracker this year, she would run about with her own wrapped gift (for the Christmas party scene) or holding a clump of fake flowers (for Waltz of the Flowers). At one point, while my students were swaying and galoping side to side, she would sway her head and shoulders along with them.

This is how I always envisioned how it would be when I have my own child, while I'm teaching or rehearsing, she or he would be hanging out in the studio with me; kinda like Twyla Tharp and her son, except not as cool. Of course, there already is the constant harassment to actually have my own kid and not play pretend with my brother's, and no, I don't mean my mom as she doesn't really mean to pressure me, she just likes the idea of having grandkids (and she won't admit it). The constant harassment is my own biological clock tick-tick-ticking away, at odds with the pact I made to keep dancing for as long as I can. I truly feel that when I do get pregnant, I will not be able to recover from it and dance the way I am dancing now. I'm giving myself a couple more years. The thing that frightens me though is what if after giving myself a few more years to dance, I find that my childbearing years have passed? I have recently been convincing myself that I'm not too old to have children and won't be too old to have children. After all, Jenna Elfman had her second baby at the age of 38 and she was producing and starring in a tv show the entire time she was pregnant. A couple more years is just about right. I hope.

There are days when I have this idea in my head that I can live the rest of my life childless. That it's okay to be selfish in this way in this day and age, that I'm just programmed for a different life, that I don't want to eventually deal with a sullen teenager (especially if it turns out that they take after me), that we all die alone anyway as I won't force my kids to take care of me in my old age. And then there are days like today.

priorities

I haven't been updating this blog, nor Runthru online as of late, and neither have I actually been going to watch other people's shows because of 2 things. First of all, at the day job where I'm working full time (that I've been doing for over a year), I was assigned to a new boss and there has been a turnover from simple website publishing to full blown strategic editorial concerns which has not been easy. It's a total paradigm shift, and not just a matter of getting used to the demands and quirks of the new boss.

I was hoping that this won't last forever, that this is just a really extensive turnover phase, but realistically, it does seem that this is going to be how life is going to be like for me, given the new demands of the job. And so I am forced to decide what to do with the little free time I have left, as there's not much room for so many things. Although I will try my darnedest to get some writing done, and will continue to post up events and news on Runthru Online, it is no longer a priority. The priority, of course, is dancing.

Yes, dancing is the second reason why I haven't been actively writing. I find that there's just not enough time in the day for both dancing and writing. At this point in my life, it's kind of obvious why I would pick one over the other. If you'd like, if you can convince me otherwise (or at least present a strong, almost compelling case for writing over dancing), I'll give you tickets to the next PBT show. (Yes, my day job has trained me to push interactivity with the audience haha).

In the interest of keeping my writing from getting rusty, I've promised myself that priority or no, I have to keep updating this blog - at the very least. It's not a big commitment - blogging is not the same as writing a review of a performance which deserves deliberated construction. It's just bits and pieces of thoughts on what's going on in dance. Sure, there's going to be more reflections on my own dancing, but I do promise not to post whining about how old I am and how difficult it is to rond de jambe my left leg higher than 90 degrees. I still have a lot of drama left in me, but I think I'm not that puerile anymore.

Will write more tomorrow. Hopefully, I'll have time to publish what I write some time between meetings, supervising my team and stretching my hamstrings.

In the meantime, I've recently put up Donna Miranda's performance notes of Agnes Locsin's Sayaw, Sabel and a profile on ballerina Carlos Garcia on www.runthru.com.ph. Baby steps, yeah?