The untold horror of every dancer's summer: Getting back in shape. Facing the mirror, donning that oh-so-flattering leotard, lacing up the ballerina shoes, making the unnatural look (and feel) as natural as possible. It is, pardon my French, a bitch. But it must be done; preferably in the company of familiar faces and possibly to the dulcet tones of Lady Gaga/Trentemøller/T.I./The Bangles/Kanye West/The White Stripes/Hanson. (Aaaand now you know a good chunk of what makes up my "biking playlist," heavy on the guilty pleasures.) Technique that takes years to build up; stamina which takes months to perfect; mental tenacity and self-confidence that--for this dancer--is an ongoing battle, inside the studio and out: All magically go into excellent hiding within the first five days of being on that wonderful time known as holiday.
So. What makes it ok? Well, for this low-self-confidence ballerina child, several things. The knowledge that those probably not-so-noticeable summer pounds [read: ounces] will go away very quickly upon resuming (ab)normal activity. Good music to bike to. Still having fun and enjoying free time after that morning workout period. Ridiculous outfits worn during said morning period, just to spice things up. (For example, my uniform of late has consisted of: brightly-colored leotard, dangly earrings, boy shorts/men's underwear, a headscarf, and knee socks/ridiculously large Adidas sneakers for the bike. Because in two months, I'll be wearing a freaking ski jacket to ballerina class and yearning for the days when I could frolic about the theatre in garments meant for footballers and members of the opposite sex.) Most important, though, is to take time and enjoy the sunshine at the end of the day. It's not going to be around for long in Scandinavia, so soak it up (literally) while you can, preferably in the company of close friends, and good food and drinks, and music.
I have had one of the most wonderful summers in recent memory. Dramatic, occasionally, but I do have a flair for it; mostly, though, it has just been simply fantastic. And so, in an effort to remind myself (and whoever may read this--Hi, Mom!), some of my favorite pictures from my first full sommerferie away from home...
The fabulous, incomparable, CCBC dancer Heloise.
Burning an effigy of a witch on Skt. Hans Day. Danes' idea of a good time.
As an American, I never understood or experienced the whole World Cup fervor thing. I did this summer. What I learned: Soccer/football ain't so bad, but the vuvuzela is surely an "instrument" (I use that term oh-so-loosely!) from Satan.
One day I took my bike Lenny Briscoe for a ride and found the suttetræ, or where pacifiers go to heaven. Amazing tree, I felt like I was in a Terry Pratchett novel or a Tim Burton fairytale. Lovely.
These photos combine several favorite things: Islands Brygge; sunshine; and one of my very best friends/newly adopted older brother, Constantine.
Ah, Tivoli. Thanks to connections in the Pantomime Theatre, I can go for free--and I do love Tivoli time.
The jazz festival turned out to be quite a surprise highlight. I may be a cool cat after all!
One magical night--the random, perfect summer sort--I saw two awesome bands, one Klezmer and one Balkan (I hope I'm categorizing right). Either way, both made me want to shout MAZEL TOV! from the rooftops; as a result of this evening, my forthcoming housewarming will be bat mitzvah-themed. I'm not joking.
The Rose Festival has to be one of the happiest evenings in recent memory. Here, Constantine, an unidentified pink-wine lover, and myself, on a Nørrebro sidewalk.
Late one night on Islands Brygge, I "car crashed"--a term coined this summer due to my frequency to sleep over at my friends' apartment there (in fact, this is a rare night at home for me; it feels wrong, somehow...). My beloved Stauning and I stayed up very late making drawings and watching American Dad, and generally having a wonderful night, and we made this. Whatever "this" is.
A dejlig aften på Kongens Have with friends like Mathilde and Constantine ended with a Car Crash--and a wonderful sunset!--on Islands Brygge.
A weird, fun night out in Kødbyen led to making new friends. En dejlig aften!
SOMA with Cross Connection is so. Much. Fun.
I am fairly certain I would die without this person in my life. Or at least go certifiably insane. Tusind, infinity thanks and hugs.
Finally, these: Gaga-meets-Wonder Woman gold sparkly panties, from Royal Danish Ballet's 1950s production of Salome. Beyond having my first-day-back-at-work outfit planned, I don't know what I will wear these for, but I am certain I will find an occasion or eight.