So someone might be curious how a dance examination happen. Well. I woke up in the morning, rolled out of bed and in to the kitchen, where I found this:
After a shower and som lunch I went to school.
First we had a warmup with our modern teacher. It was the one we normally do, only our teacher had to remind us to breath a few more times than normal. And then the exam started.
Our teachers and the school headmasters filed in and sat down by the mirrors. The music was turned on. And we danced. To be honest, I don't remember much of it. I just went for it.
The hardest part was switching modes. From doing ballet exercises to do a modern combination and then a Fosse-inspired jazzcombination.
It all went well, I know that much. But I turned my brain on in jazz. I started thinking. I fucked it up. At least the last pirouette.
After one hour it was over. At first everybody cheered and hugged and jumped around, but then the adrenalin slowly disappeared and everybody turned quiet. We sat on the floor waiting for the teachers to end their conference. Dreading it, beacause when they were finished we'd have individual talks with them.
People cried. I was one of them. I'm not going to tell you why or what exacly the teachers said, but some I will share. Like my jazz teacher told me to find fire and try myself out. Which is basically code for "get out of your head". Suprise!
And I was asked why I dance. That's what's been occupying my mind pretty much ever since (save for my drunkest hours last night) and that was what I was going to write about today. But I think this post is long enough as it is, so I'll save it for later.
Anyways. The day was a bit of an emotional rollercoaster, and it ended with a swiss fondue party in a (swiss) classmates appartment. Pretty good ending if you ask me.
