To The Girl-turned-Woman who moved me...

You are beautiful, whole and perfect; the universe's gift to all who are blessed to come into contact with you.

I have wanted to offer my two cents, but feel it would be an insignificant contribution to the outpouring, and so I stand with them, willing my sentiment to permeate the air and that you will know that I support and am awed by you. these four years I have had the distinct honour of being acquainted with you have truly been some of the most noteworthy of my life. As I stood by you that night, I began to muse on just how far our interactions have evolved.. I remember that you were one of the only persons that didn't seem to retreat into yourself in the presence of a certain ballet- mistress (in fact, you were the first to make me laugh at her, but as I MAY have been eavesdropping that one time, I wont tell you that). I immediately thought two things; you will come to be better when her time passes, or, that  you will perpetuate her stoic icy reign in the macabre system that was apparently "how things were done" in the Company. I am glad to say, your batch's seniority and leadership is looked on as a time of the best in relation between company members across lines of senior/junior and male/female.

Throughout all this, my first two years, I observed, pleased, but silent. A silence that did not last much longer, as it is well known that when one of your closest friends is Mr R.V. McKenzie, sociable isn't a choice, its a non-negotiable consequence.

I Never knew I'd be a dancer or that I'd've met you...seeing this recently I'm reminded
the world is a very small place :)

I always wondered why you seemed not to want to teach when a piece was remounted, but in the end never questioned it (which was probably wise, my mouth seems to have no filter and knowing my dunce ways I might've sounded like I was judging). but I am grateful you gave me an intimate view of life as an architecture student, and gained me a new-found appreciation for not only you and your balance, but to another friend's struggle and concern. Jo-Ann, I was amazed at the workload, and awed you took very little break, all day at studio to change scenery for another studio only to go back and burn midnight oil. I watched...you were phenomenal (This was around the time of that UTech Vid en pointe...you were EVERYTHING!).

I was beginning to feel like my vocal cords wouldn't rupture if I dared speak to you unbidden, and I struck up (on my part) an uneasy acquaintanceship (I was still quite terrified of you). and slowly, I was made party to the group of persons who stood in the awesome space of friend and fan of the incomparable 'Jo'.

Then the unthinkable happened...Sir was setting a new work on us...and you chose me as your partner...

*Pause, while I again recover from being starstruck*

You probably didn't know that by simply choosing to be my partner you ensured I would work the hardest I had worked in dance up to this point. I. Was. Floored...and to this day, it produced my favourite artistic shot of me in life... and I will always have you to thank for it

you went past the platitudes other senior girls would usually say to us supporting men, and showed that you ACTUALLY trusted us, that we were worth something to the continuity and growth, the image of the Company Dance Theatre...

This year, with the lineup of such a varied undertaking, we were all excited and a little bit afraid of the mammoth task. I was worried that you were not as present as before, but was confident you would return, star up class and then go on to take the stage. you then returned from  hiatus, and all progressed(smoothly is not the word one uses for this period, so I'll simply say progressed). 

Then you repeated the untinkable: in remounting the ballet RoseHall, you chose me...not once, but TWICE to be your partner...my glad bag jus' buss! I felt I had come full circle, that I did something right if I were worthy to be chosen again.

If you'll notice I have glossed over the negative bits, the espionage, the whisperings, mutterings and flare up that have caused this moment. I do so because they were to have been immaterial...and I somehow fear if it were anyone else, they would have been...Life, however, chooses who to be fair to.

I could join in the persons who decry and scream their resentment, raising my voice in protest...but I have never been a good orator, in fact, I don't think I communicate well at all...but I am standing there. I am standing there waiting to see you again recover from that fall, from the landing, from that moment of unexplained incident...I am waiting to be in awe again...the stage is not the same without you, and there is a heaviness that will remain with me until it has welcomed you back...

until then...I am Waiting. in the wings, in the audience, on my feet...I am waiting