![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() Tallulah, you see, wants to be a great ballerina. I tell you all this by way of saying why I felt such a strong response to Tallulah's Tutu, the new picture book written by my friend Marilyn Singer, and resplendently illustrated by Alexandra Boiger. I still play, in fact, although some of my skills are a bit rusty. And then, in second grade, I fell in love with the piano and begged and pleaded for lessons – I'd found my personal passion, and it was one I pursued through college. I devoted my time to climbing trees and playing hide-and-seek and reading and such. And it turns out that I was not a graceful petal, and that ballet wasn't quite my cup of tea, and it wasn't all that long before I wasn't taking ballet classes anymore. Turns out my right hip isn't quite as flexible as it ought to be – it wasn't then, it isn't now, it never has been. I remember trying and trying to stand in first position properly, but my right leg never quite cooperated. I'm not positive whether I had ballet shoes or not. (I'm sure we couldn't have afforded ballet classes otherwise.) It was in the spring when I took a few ballet classes – probably at the YMCA, where my mother worked at the time. I didn't want to be like her, I wanted to be her, and my poor mother had a devil of a time explaining to me that I could only be myself, and that I could learn to skate, but I couldn't actually be Peggy Fleming. Kellyrfineman When I was four, I watched Peggy Fleming skate to gold in the Winter Olympics, and I wanted to be her. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |