Once in a while, when you find your spirits sinking into a dark place, a sliver of inspiration reaches into the shadows and touches your soul with hope and light. For me, inspiration appears in a variety of forms, usually stemming from culture, life experiences, literature, nature, and of course, entertainment.

 I have been in a bit of a slump, having taken a slight hiatus this spring semester from performing in order to regroup and focus more on my studies. Not that I wasn’t artistically active this spring, choreographing two shows and making a guest appearance in a beautiful gala. However, I could feel something definitely missing, and I fear that missing component compromised my normally bright, bubbly personality. I had no outlet or release for my stress and anxiety, and they continued to mount as my commitments grew and collided at the conclusion of the school year.

With the onset of summer, I think I have continued along this detrimental path, although I have not been entirely conscious of maintaining this mindset. The mood has persisted as I transferred from the classroom to the office environment, and I have continued questioning why I lack “luster” in my attitude. Still devoid of a creative outlet, I have spent my nights roaming the Internet and twiddling on Tumblr, but I haven’t quite found an emotional release.

I experienced a much-needed spiritual boost last night, from the entertainment realm of the aforementioned inspirational categories, as I watched one of my favorite films, An American in Paris. The work of Gene Kelly never fails to stun me with its pure, human beauty. His style is rare in its unparalleled ability to exemplify the simplest of emotions and thoughts through an explosion of movement. It’s not dancing for the sake of dancing, because there is a break in the song or room in the screenplay for a little sidestepping diversion. It’s dancing because nothing else can adequately express the passion felt at that particular moment. Watching his choreography play exuberantly across the screen always renews my love for the art form.

I am truly looking forward to renewing my creative expressions through an upcoming summer ballet intensive, which will culminate in a public performance. To that end, I have shimmering new pair of Gayor Minden pointe shoes, which I cannot wait to wear next week. As I hold them up to the light, the pink satin reflects my happiness as I anticipate the cultivation of my abilities.

So, with a little help from Mr. Kelly and my fabulous new Gaynors, the irritating cloud over my head is starting to clear. I can see a little ray of light, fiercely fighting its way into my heart.


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