My altered script was as follows
A ballerina's feet are her best kept secret.
To the audience of a ballet performance, the ballerina is elegant and weightless thanks to her pointe shoes. However, what the audience see's is merely an illusion.
Pointe shoes require breaking-in so that the ballerina may dance in them comfortably. Usually they are bashed, bent and scored and may even have pieces torn from them. Handmade from satin and canvas, these shoes may last from a few hours to a few weeks. And, after a show, the ballerina will feel like those battered pointe shoes. She may suffer broken or lost toenails as well as blisters, bruising and bunions. A dancer runs the risk of being crippled by her shoes, her own tools. She may protect her feet and her lively hood by taping her toes and stuffing her shoes with cotton wool but pain is always an inevitable thing. Art is so rarely derived from happiness.
A dancer may train in these agonising shoes for up to twelve hours a day, increasing the risk of injury. One wrong turn could end a dancer's career. Some may even hide their injuries, such is the desire to hold onto a part they have been given in a performance. There is always someone waiting in the wings, hungry to fill their shoes.
A life of a ballerina is full of training, which doesn't stop when they leave the studio. They must hone their bodies to be thin yet with muscle, not unlike an athlete. Their bodies are also the reason why ballerinas are born, not made: they are required to have a thin, elegant frame.
A ballerina will spend weeks training for a performance, undergoing battling fatigue, injury and stress. But during the final performance, their hard work will pay dividends, for it is their chance to shine in the spotlight.
In that one performance, the training, endurance, shoes and the dancer's body come together for a brief moment where all the hardship was worth it.
In a way a dancer is like the very shoes she dances in. She is born, she is trained and injured, and enjoys a moment in the sun, then she is finishes her career when she cannot dance anymore and is thrown away from her company.
To an audience, I am elegant and weightless, balancing on the points of my shoes. An illusion.
Together, the shoes and I, we have to train ourselves, many hours, days, weeks, years….
My shoes are uncomfortable at first. They have to be broken.
Then comes the moment, when the crippling pain is gone – and I AM weightless, beautiful, soaring …. such a brief moment!
(‘in the sun,’) Show this in the images… swirling movement in sunlight?
Pain can be forgotten, shoes wear out.
There is always someone waiting in the wings, hungry.