Blue Shoes

I usually shrug off pleasant memories. Else they would mean too much. But this one refused to be.
Shrugged off, I mean.
* * * *

It was exactly like that 2 minute dream before the waking second. It grew, frame by frame.. it melted, it smiled and winked at me as I lived through it. Waking life, I call it.

There were rehearsals that ran in lengths of many days and endless nights. I remember those blue shoes too. They seemed to suit me well. Pretty silver ribbons to ballet with my lady like blue skirt, red roses, and good luck wishes.

And the fall! How can I forget the fall? Gracefully, in slow motion – like it would be my last and like I can’t fall any lower. More perfect than all my rehearsals. And then the freeze…

Like in a trance, the rest of the cast swirls in circles and leaps, while my eyes search through the space to fill the void that could kill me. That is the moment. The split second when the spots are on you. Of applause, of fame, of smiles and crystal drops of tears.

My twelve year struggle understood me.

"When words become unclear, I shall focus with photographs. When images become inadequate, I shall be content with silence" - Ansel Adams

In this space you will find images and words. It is upto you to weave 'em together and see what I see.