I am the cockroach of ballet students, etc.

A thought that ran through my head yesterday. Like a species that won't take a hint, crawling back above ground after nuclear apocalypse, eventually I always find myself back in a dance studio.

(I'm not doing this right now, but the impulse has been occurring to me.)

Lately I find myself wanting to email my favorite ballet teacher from my teenage years, who also shepherded my mid-twenties comeback: Guess what, I'm obsessed with circus classes these days! I ponder whether I would send him a short video or not (a little brassy for my taste but could be a good idea so he knows what the f*ck, specifically, I am talking about)

I imagine saying, And guess what, ballet helps with that too! - even from underneath the years that bury it - even if not one smidge with the upper body strength - my feet chronically if imperfectly pointy, my eye sensitive to line, my preferences leaning towards the shapes that most closely echo an arabesque.

Let me get down to it: I think I am also the cockroach of bloggers. I've been using this very account, off and on, for nearly as long as I've been in and out of ballet classes. The impulse comes and goes but is hard to eradicate. Eventually, always, I find myself online again typing to friends and strangers. Here I am again, hello. I've missed you all.