Читать книгу Body of a Dancer - Renee D'Aoust - Страница 13

My boyfriend Chris followed me from Montana to New York City, and he would bring me aspirin while I lay in bed or on the floor. Then we tried ibuprofen. We settled on naproxen, using the product Aleve.

I remember Chris begging me to lift weights, to try some toning exercises for my muscles, to rethink the way I was training my body. He also told me to lose weight—I was 5’5” and 112 pounds—and he pissed me off so much, I didn’t do anything else he suggested. I should have. Maybe I would still be dancing.

Maybe not.

They say there are three kinds of dancers: 1. Those who dance when young and never dance again; 2. Those who dance professionally and move on; and 3. Those who dance professionally and then move on into careers in dance, teaching, and/or choreography.

My own personal opinion is that there is a fourth kind of dancer: for her, dance never leaves the heart; dance is the purest expression of life; it is movement without voice, movement that is a gift of the body.