When I was little I dearly wanted to learn gymnastics. Money was tight to put it mildly and I was already taking ballet classes so this was one desire that remained unfulfilled [ along with learning the clarinet but that’s a whole ‘nother story ].
Undeterred I spent hours doing handstands, the splits, cartwheels and hanging by my knees from the trapeze. I could stand balanced on one leg with the other foot somewhere behind my right ear. I perfected spinning around the monkey bars. Very nearly gave my grade 6 teacher Mrs Thompson, a heart attack by doing a backflip dismount from the very top bar too :]
So I had a ball yesterday when Nadie and I went as per mother-and-daughter-girls-only tradition to see the current incarnation of Cirque du Soleil under La Grande Chapiteau.
The ‘story’ was … as always … totally incomprehensible and even after shelling out $19 for the program we were none the wiser. I found it later on the official website so if you are interested you can check it out here
The net-work by “Icarus” was absolutely poignant and lyrically beautiful. In a way it was a shame that it was right at the start. None of the flashy pyrotechnics later came close to the achingly beautiful simplicity of this
I wonder… do you think they could use a middle aged arthritic Grandmother who can still do the splits?
Oh and just by the way, if you are thinking of taking a babe in arms to the performance … DON’T. It’s loud and bright and a complete overloading of the senses. Unhappy wailing babes are intrusive. Parents who ignore said unhappy babes and continue to sit through the performance despite the affect on both the child and everyone within earshot should be ashamed of themselves.