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“Ah, you can speak.” He folded his arms and looked intently into my face, his presence softened by dark, glossy hair that all fell over his forehead in one boyish twist.
Oh he’s magical
“I might have known it with a mere look, though. You wear dignity like a royal cape, even when you’re afraid and hiding. Like an exotic wild animal, perhaps.”
“Is art only validated by the presence of an audience?”
“Forgive me, but I simply don’t know what to make of you. I’ve never heard of anyone willing to take on the label of a dancer without any of the spoils of the trade.”
Was dancing truly so divorced from God that they could not both be woven tightly into the fabric of the same girl? Something inside me resonated so deeply with the immensity, the vibrant beauty, of both.
It’s not! The Lord loves dancing! 💜
His gaze dropped toward the shoes, then at me, head tilted in question. Our gazes tangled and held, and I couldn’t breathe. He lifted one hand as if to poke me. “I’ve never seen her, though. That is, until . . .”
Ooo!
One day we’ll be dancing together on that stage. I vow it. Keep that focal point as you spin through your days, and don’t stop dancing.”
“Oh, and keep those shoes close, love. Wouldn’t want anyone else knowing you have ’em.”
Principal dancer. I had danced with the principal dancer.
“Oh, but how—why . . .” I shrugged with a little smile. “Merely returning them to their rightful owner.”
WHAT! WHAT! WHAT! *sirens blare*
A dancer is a rare artist, I’ve been told, because her art vanishes the moment she leaves the stage.
Things happened to her. Me, I was just as quiet, but made of stronger stuff.
centering my soul on the only father I seemed to have. Please . . . Please . . . was all I could get out in my prayer. He knew what I meant, for we’d had endless conversations about it already.
Sweet ♥️
“That solves it, then. I shan’t be any good, Mama. I vow it. Merely good enough to remain.”
“Was he a very important dancer? A thwarted suitor?” A long, shuddering sigh. “He was your father.”
I didn’t need my father. Truly, I didn’t. I was an independent soul. Fathers, for girls like me, were optional.
stole a glance at his back, and after a moment he turned to look at me too—just for a brief second, but I saw it. A fleeting smile, then he turned. Perhaps he did know. Insufferable man.
that glimmer warmed the hollow places of my heart. I had so little of it myself, but giving love away filled something deep within, where the cracks had become far too large.
A spark of the sacred Psalms lit through my mind. LORD my God, in thee do I put my trust: save me from all them that persecute me, and deliver me.
Besides, no one is ready for the sujet after a mere two years in Paris. That is, unless dancing is already in her blood.”
One has the notion from looking at you that you never walk anywhere. Not when dancing is an option.”
“A gentleman. Refined and genteel, but all fiery passion on the stage. I often wondered if he was a dangerous man behind closed doors.”
Every romance that begins in the theater ends with just as much tragedy as the ballets themselves.”
“May I offer some company on your walk, then? Mine specifically, that is.”
So if he says two words to you, even harsh ones, it means he thinks you’re worth teaching, and you are most privileged.”
“I’m certain he sees what I see—a most stunning dancer.”
“Theater is not an easy life. The days are not cushioned with ease or kind words. Perhaps it would be bearable if it weren’t so lonely.”
“And nothing great has ever been accomplished by doing a thing the same way everyone else has,
the minute stitches taking shape. “I’ve not been in a while.” I’d been rejected from my lifelong congregation upon accepting the scholarship, a life of theater, and I hadn’t decided what should become of my Sunday ritual.
:(
“Even when he’s feeling poorly, he seldom misses a week.”
A dancer is only alive for as long as she can dance, then the world forgets.
I felt another string tying me down to this earth loosen, my heart longing once again for heaven and the comfort of the rescuing Father who’d always been there. Even when I had not.
“It’s more than kindness, isn’t it? With Philippe, I mean. You’ve broken through. You’ve gotten him to open up, haven’t you?”
“If he’s told you his secrets—any of them—you’re more friends with him than any of the rest of us are.” Her eyebrows lifted. “Perhaps more than friends.”
We all looked at each other. Of all things, a “sore knee”—Annika, with child? She’d never spoken of any romance, any man who might be the baby’s father.
“Come fully prepared to amaze us. It’ll be the finest ballet this side of Covent Garden, and we expect to make headlines. I need it to be sensational, dramatic, and despite the tragic ending, exceedingly romantic.” He raised pinched fingers to emphasize the last point.
Perfect wheres phillipe
“Men never fuss over their socks, so if he’s poor, that’s the first thing he’ll be cheap about. Nice socks mark a well-appointed gentleman fit to offer a fine living.”
“That’s the art of the thing, sister. You must paint yourself as he wishes you to be, not as you are.”
Terrible advice!
“Then please, do tell what led you to allow me to escort you home after so many sound rejections.” “That.” I waved a finger at his chest. “How do you do . . . that?”
“I’ve yet to see you without an utterly charmed woman by your side and a smile on that silly face of yours. I suppose that’s what I need to do to audiences—charm them the way you charm women.”
Okay ngl they got me rooting for Jack
I recalled another thing Mama always taught me—never speak in absolutes.
Ballet had become the worst part of my life, I realized with a start—a source of anxiousness and fear, a huge brick wall between me and God.
“Those are worse than the bad ones. Praise is a quicksand, you know. The more you get, the more you need.”
“And no doubt you’re determined it’ll never happen again. More practice, more late nights, more striving, more exacting rules to follow.”
“Very well, how about Proverbs to the Psalms? Rules to raw emotion.”
“There’s more to God than his rules.”
“Why yes, of course, you do live as one utterly set free.”
Get her!!!
it turned out, the trouble was not that Jack Dorian was wrong—it was that he was terribly right.
“What you’ve done isn’t working, is it? I aim to give you new experiences, push you off a few of your precious safety ledges. Now hold on.”
“A dancer can fall with as much grace as she dances, if she learns how.”
