So I thought I'd share part two of my Past Ballet Beauty post, but in a roundabout way. I've been thinking a lot lately about this blog and what it means to me. There are so many beautiful blogs that I have come to love over the past year or so and each for different reasons. Some for the personal stories that they share, others for the beautiful images, and others still for the information and new worlds that they introduce me to. It's really not surprising to me that I have never been able to commit to any one of those formats in my own blog. This is probably the defining characteristic of my life: I want to do everything! I have never been able to choose one pursuit or interest to fully devote myself to; my moods pull me from one thing to another.
As a child I went from hobby to hobby, pursuit to pursuit. My parents drove me to dance lessons, piano lessons, guitar lessons, short lived gymnastics lessons (I was afraid of the balance beam), art lessons, voice lessons, theatre, choir, and so on. I attribute this in part to our frequent moves (five times from grade 4 to 11) and my desire to find a place where I belonged. I took naturally to most of these different interests and probably could have had a career in one of them had I focussed exclusively on that one thing. But to me, choosing one thing meant saying no to the others, and I just couldn't do it.
I think I've always thought of this multifaceted aspect of my character as a deep failing, a lack of follow through or discipline. I have felt guilty for how much time and money my parents invested without ever seeing "results." And somewhere along the way I started to think more about what I should be doing than what I wanted to do. At my father's urging I completed an English degree with the intention of parlaying it into something "practical" like human resources, technical writing, or communications. And then one day I realized that was the last thing in the world that I wanted to do with my life. Lost without a focus I took a few more classes and discovered the wonderful world of art history.
While completing my degree in Art History over the last few years I came to understand that what I really thrive on is creating; taking a paper topic that interested me from the first idea to finished essay thrilled me. I also found an intense passion for fiction writing which is the closest I have ever come to being able to identify myself solely with one activity. The new plan was to become an Art History professor; I would be able to indulge my interest in both scholarly writing and, during summers, fiction writing.
But things changed again when I a) fell in love and b) developed a fairly debilitating chronic pain in my hands, wrists and arms. I completed my degree with honors but it was an excruciating challenge. I married my love whose job is tied to a location far from any Art History PhD programs. Dreams of Stanford or Cambridge now seem very unlikely as my pain is still a medical mystery and prevents me from properly devoting myself to such an intense undertaking. My computer time is very limited and I can no longer throw myself into research and writing for days at a time.
But I have an agent in Toronto and I've promised her a finished book sometime this summer. I work away at it every week as much as I can, and it makes me truly happy in certain moments. I would like to think that I will perhaps publish some of my papers in scholarly journals in the next few years (that was certainly the intention I was working towards with my advisors), but I might have to let go of that "respectable" academic identity I've been clinging to for so many years.
And then there's my fledgling etsy boutique which has run me through an unimaginable gamut of emotions. Lately I've been confused as to why I started it; I'm supposed to be a writer now after all! But I have discovered that I love to indulge this other side of my creativity, letting my imagination run wild in making unabashedly feminine accessories. I love seeing these fripperies take physical shape.
So this brings me (finally!) back to the ballet theme. When I was in the second grade we were taken to the library and told to pick a book about an individual career to write a report on. I was heartbroken when another girl beat me out to get the ballet book; I ended up with the librarian book instead. My life in a nutshell...wanted the creative extraordinary path, and was pointed down the practical safe path. Of course, as a child I was simply drawn to the pretty costumes and the feminine glamor of the ballerina...
I had no conception of the discipline and pain required of these athletes. But I continue to love the iconic beauty of the ballerina, and I choose to now think of these women as a symbol for the way I want to live my life; with confidence...
...with preparation...
...with balance...
...and grace...
Behind the fantasy of perfection is the real woman...
...who everyday must choose to be herself and apologize to no one for it.
