Knack magazine

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Transcript of Knack magazine

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SNAPSHOTS OF MELBOURNE

GEORGIA ANDERSON AND NIAMH McCOOL

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“THERE’S JUST SOMETHING ABOUT IT. MELBOURNE ART IS LIKE NOTHING I’VE EVER SEEN IN SYDNEY. EVER SINCE I’VE BEEN I HAVE BEEN DYING TO GO

BACK. MAYBE IT’S THE CAFÉ’S AND STREET RESTURANTS I MISS THE MOST OR THE FRIENDLY

ATMOSPHERE. THERE’S A CERTAIN SOMETHING THAT EMINATES FROM MELBOURNE, YOU JUST

DON’T KNOW IT TILL YOU’VE BEEN THERE.” –Georgia Anderson

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Last summer Georgia Anderson

The car sped down the freeway whipping my hair to something more like tumble

dried tissue paper. I still didn‟t get why we were going to Aunt Chamomile's for the

summer. The place was dank with winning bingo cards and piles of CD‟s stacked

high of Miles Davis and Elvis Presley. Her name wasn‟t really Aunt Camomile, I

just named her that when I was four because she liked to drink it almost as she loved

her prune juice, but Aunt Prune didn‟t sound as good as Aunt Camomile. The name

sort of stuck after a while, like the bugs to the 1980‟s Toyota. The windows wound

down and up with a handle, none of this electronic stuff. The last windscreen wiper

lolled around smudging flattened bugs on the screen. The other wiper fell off a few

hours ago as we flew down the freeway. That was the other thing about Aunt

Chamomile's house, it was too far away. It was at least an hour, but on Instagram,

that was a whole load of posts I could have been checking. It‟s a wonder that I even

had Instagram with my 80‟s brainwashed father. It‟s the sad truth that mum left him

years ago with me, and honestly, I can see why. When I watch movies and late night

TV soap opera‟s, dad would pipe up with something about the „Good Old Days‟ just

as Ryan Gosling confesses his love to Rachel McAdams. The car hit a bump on the Princes highway to the Stanwell Park off-ramp.

Something narrowly missed my head a landed behind me. With a wince I turned to

see a delicately ruthless smash in my iPhone. Oh well, I tell myself; I was going to

happen some time. The road was about to turn steep, if I wanted my phone back in

(more or less) one piece, I would have to grab it now. I lurched and flung myself

between dad‟s seat and mine. Only I never got any further. My seatbelt had locked. I

tried again, flinging myself over the seat but it was no use. I folded my arms and

crumpled my white t-shirt under my frustration. I slid down the chair in a waterfall

of annoyance and my washed out jeans (which, by the way, were also the 80‟s look,

gratitude of dad) rolled up underneath me. Dad, as usual, wasn‟t paying attention and rolled up the volume dial on the radio as

Bon Jovi echoed through the car and out the window. The car turned sharply and

dad started belting out lyrics. There is one thing worse that Aunt Chamomile's house

and that‟s Dad “singing” along to „Living on a Prayer.‟ If my iPhone didn‟t have

cracks from before, it certainly would now. The only prayer that I was praying was

that the car battery went dead, and quick. Stretched out in glorious morning light was the picturesque hillside of Coalcliff. “Living on a PRAYER!!!” Dad screeched and a bird fell out of the tree in fright,

landing in the bush where it was never seen again. I had to find headphones. I tried

to dig around before I lost my hearing and had to learn another language. I tried to

take up Japanese in junior high, but I just couldn‟t get it. Though, I suppose it had

nothing to do with my (completely necessary) procrastination. It just seemed that

whenever I wanted to do homework someone was sending me a Facebook post or a

tweet and it would be negligent of me to ignore my friends who could need me. Dad

didn‟t care much for grades just as long as you knew a Harley from a Kawasaki; you

were gold. Bon Jovi let out his last chord and the radio suddenly went down again but I knew it

wouldn‟t stay that way for long.

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I tilted my head slightly to get better view of the once-coffee-holder-turned-trash-

can. Dad didn‟t drink much coffee, just beer. Whenever he rounded corners, the beer

would slip a little and the drink would slither it‟s way out of the bottle and into the

accumulating mass in the cup holder. There, neatly rolled in the middle of it all were

my headphones. I almost considered using them, almost. I was going to need another solution before INXS started or they decided it was time

for the pop quiz. I never really got parents who wait for the pop quiz on talkback

shows than yell all the answers out and get them right. Why didn‟t you just call up

the station and answer them yourself?

***

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Alleyways

Melbourne

Street Art

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Start of Niamh McCool’s Photography

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http://www.tuan-min.com/blog/index.php/tag/lion-king-musical-singapore-review/

Mikaela Thornton

4.5 stars I recently went with a group of musical students to see the Lion King Musical in the

Capitol Theatre. Having watched and re-watched the movie as a child, I was very

keen to see how it had been interpreted into song and dance.

The Lion King Musical follows the same plotline as the Disney Lion King Animation; The

King of the Lions, Mufasa, has a son who he calls Simba. Simba‟s position of birth

allows him to continue the kingly line but Mufasa‟s brother, Scar, is jealous of his

kingship and resolves to usurp his rule. Scar manages to become king after Mufasa‟s

death and Simba has run away. He rules poorly and leaves the land in ruins but Simba

returns to claim his rightful place as king. While the audience is privy to the surprise

twist, the effect is not lessened. The hilarious characters and classically written Disney

songs create a really nostalgic effect for everyone who grew up with the Lion King.

End of Niamh McCool’s Photography

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True to the form of Disney based musicals it has a villain you just love to hate and

heroes that, though far from perfect, make the right choices in the end.

The main and obvious difference between the film and the movie is, of course, that

musical theatre is live. Since live wild animals, even trained ones were a no-go, the

solution was costuming. And boy did they costume! The stage held the most

incredible varieties of animal costumes, some were animal figures attached to turning

wheels to resemble bounding deer. Another, like the cheetah costume was part

costume, part puppetry. The giraffes were on stilts and the birds were attached to

string and flown in circles around both the stage and the audience at one point. All in

all, the visual presentation of all characters was stunning.

The downside to this musical interpretation is that it somewhat lacks the innocence

that the animations did. The silly songs and funny dance numbers are cute when the

actors are children but when the child actor was replaced by its adult counterpart to

show a change in time, things began to look and feel quite cheesy. That isn‟t to say

that it lost the audience‟s engagement or became less visually stunning, simply that

sometimes the adult Simba and Nala were reminiscent of children‟s TV show hosts.

Another great addition to the musical was the Aussie jokes. There were some jokes

and one-liners that were clearly not in the original musical and had been added

purely for the enjoyment of the Australian audience. These were lines such as, “Please

don‟t send me back to Tasmania!” And, “Those curtains look like they were bought at

Ikea.” Both of which were said by Zazu. These lines were comedic gold and make it

clear that the script writers have considered the audience and tried to personalise

and tailor the production to and Australian public.

Overall, I enjoyed the Lion King, even if I did feel that it was aimed at an audience of

children. The magnificent costuming, characters and comedy combined to create

an engaging and meaningful performance. It was well worth seeing and I would

recommend it to anyone, particularly anyone with children.

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Mikaela Thornton

After her incredible success as Elphaba in Wicked. Idina Menzel has furthered her career in the Disney animated film Frozen as Elsa. However, despite the vastly different circumstances surrounding both characters they have some very obvious similarities, leading many to believe that Idina has been cast as the same person. Idina Menzel, actress and singer has recently reached even greater fame in her role as Elsa in the Disney box office success ‘Frozen’. After having won a Tony award for best leading actress in a musical for her spectacular portrayal of Elphaba the Wicked Witch of the West, Idina Menzel is now more well-known magical character; Elsa the Queen of Ice and Snow. But despite being praised in both roles, similarities in both characters would suggest that Elsa is just a cartoon Disney interpretation of Elphaba. But how similar can the characters be in such different environments? On the plotline of Frozen the Director, Jenifer Lee, said, “really, it’s just about creating a very powerful, emotional story, but also having it be something that is a lot of fun and actually quite epic, something big.” said Jenifer Lee, Director of Frozen. And she certainly achieved ‘something big‘ as the female-centric fairy-tale has become a box office success. Producer David Stone said in reference to the tone of Wicked; “sometimes it could be very moving and serious and sometimes it was very pop and light and funny.” Wicked, another female centric tale, is the (more adult) prequel to the Wizard of Oz. Despite their similarities, Wicked and Frozen are fundamentally different as they are aimed at different audiences. These kinds of differences are self-evident in the endings. While Frozen ends in happily ever after, Wicked ends in Elphaba’s permanent isolation. The language used in Wicked is also different and (while not necessarily inappropriate), would make little sense to a child. Though these fundamental differences are outstandingly obvious when comparing the two plotlines, Elsa and Elphaba are seen as quite similar. But how similar are they really? Kristen Bell stated that love in Frozen is not romantic. “No one is waiting for their prince charming in this movie.” Despite the many male-dependant female heroines Disney has created; this film does not focus on either Anna or Elsa finding love. Relationships Elphaba struggles to fit in anywhere because of her appearance and gift of magic. Therefore, she doesn’t have the ability to consider love from any one around her. Wicked does involve her and Fiyero but she didn’t go looking for that love, it found her. Elsa is born with her powers and uses them for innocent fun but comes to fear her power after accidentally hurting her sister Ana. In Wicked, Elphaba is also born with power along with a rather unsightly green visage. However, unlike Elsa she fears her powers from the get go and only realises how much of a gift her magic is when her teacher commends her incredible magical ability and says, “the Wizard (of Oz) will make you his magic grand vizier”. Another point of comparison is their situations. Both characters are given gifts that separate them from others and eventually both leave people behind, seeking isolation. But while Elsa does this out of fear, Elphaba does this to escape her own broken heartedness. Either way, both have their own power solo declaring their independence. Elsa said, “A kingdom of isolation...no right, no wrong, no rules for me. I'm free. Elphaba said, “And if I'm flying solo, at least I'm flying free.” Both characters believe that they have hurt the person closest to them. For Elsa this is Ana, whose heart she accidentally freezes in a moment of rage. For Elphaba this is Fiyero who is taken and tortured to reveal where Elphaba is hiding. She casts a spell to free him but stops when she believes him to be dead. In actual fact, he has really just been turned into a scarecrow, as seen in the Wizard of Oz. In an interview Idina Menzel was asked if she drew a comparison from Elphaba and Elsa. She said “They’re both quite misunderstood and very powerful characters. To me they’re very different but I do, I do see a pattern.” Elsa and Elphaba are both thoroughly misunderstood. Elsa is forced to hide away for years to protect others from her, which means very few people get to know Elsa. On the other hand, those that meet Elphaba immediately judge her appearance and don’t bother trying to know her. In this sense they are quite opposite. Elsa, who is quite harmless in intent, believes herself to be a danger and a threat to everyone around her. Elphaba, who believes strongly in fighting against anything that seems morally wrong, is seen as insignificant through her schooling life because she is powerless against the onslaught of dislike she suffers. Yet, Elphaba is the one who has the bigger influence in the scheme of things.

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Well, situations, personalities and perceptions aside there is one thing that every female compares; costume! The costuming for both characters isn’t just stunning; it has quite a significant role in their history. For Elphaba, she wears quite unfashionable black clothing including the stereotypical ‘witches hat’. However, this is not random; this hat is in fact given to her by Glinda who tells her that it is a great fashion statement to amuse her classmates. Her decision to keep the hat even after her and Glinda part ways parallels her decision to accept isolation. Elsa begins Frozen wearing a formal, floor length dress for her coronation. She stands formally, she walks stiffly, she speaks quietly. When Elsa leaves Arendelle and sings ‘let it go’ she uses her ice powers to remake her outfit.

Her new costume is ice blue at the top, fading to a slightly darker blue at the bottom. The bodice is covered in reflective blue sequins and the dress is complete with a transparent white/blue train decorated with, of course, snowflake patterns. With her transformation, Elsa both literally and figuratively lets her hair down. She becomes more open and relaxed. She is happy for “the first time in forever”. Both characters have a specific persona and their ‘type’ is quite similar but I personally think that Idina Menzel has created two unique characters. These characters are so real and relatable that they are loved by two completely different generations in two completely different ways.

coryjensenart.tumblr.com

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CONNOR MCCOOL- MUSICIAN

McCool has been a musician since he picked up a

toy guitar as a toddler. He is a solo artist but has

played in a number of different bands. He specialises

in jazz trumpet, experimental bass and Spanish guitar

but is also your go-to guy if you need a bass player

which can hold a band together. McCool is known

as the “ice man” for his laidback demure and his

complex bass compositions.

What are you doing at the moment? {Music wise}

I‟m going to AIM and playing some gigs now and then.

What is your process for making songs?

When I write songs I try to have a concept or message beforehand and then the

melodies and chords come after that.

Name three artists that have influenced your music style the most?

Three artists.... Victor Wooten, Larry Graham, Bootsy Collins

Where do you find your inspiration from?

Things that happen to me, people I meet, my emotions and feelings at the time

If you could go on tour anywhere, where would you go?

I would tour the whole world if possible, but if its only one country then maybe

America.

What’s it like working in a band? Do you find your creative flow is blocked by other

people or enhanced by people?

I generally enjoy working in a band. You can create musical ideas that you would

never think of by yourself. Part of the fun is working with other people and the

musical energy that working with people who are as passionate as you create. It

really depends on the band; some people are easy to work with and it’s easy to

create, other times people don't have that creative spark and it can make it hard

for you to do what you need to do as well.

Do you try to put your own personal twist on covers or stay true to the song?

You always put your own twist on cover songs just by the fact of you playing; I think

it’s pretty much impossible to stay exactly true to the song.

Do you consciously put meaning into song or do you find meaning in the song

afterwards?

I try my best to put meaning in to the song at the time if I can.

What’s the last three songs you listened to?

Reload! Reload! and BEOW by Suffer like G did, and Can't leave the night by

BBNG

Are you a dog person or a cat person? Why?

Cat person because cats are sly and seem intelligent and cunning, they always

get food from 7 different owners and each one thinks that the cat is all theirs.

Thanks

No problem

B Y N I A M H M C C O O L

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Cat person because cats are sly and seem intelligent and cunning, they always get food from 7 different owners and each one thinks that the cat is all thei

How to:

Harmonica

Maybe you need to bust out some prison blues or maybe you want to be a one man band or maybe you have the sudden urge to make your mouth taste like metal. The point is, you need to know harmonica, lucky for you we’re breaking down it for you.

STEP ONE: Get a harmonica. There are lots out there, the most common and best for beginners is a C major harmonica. You can tell it’s a C major harmonica if it’s got a C on the front of it.

STEP TWO: Learn how to hold your harmonica. Pretend you’re holding a hamburger with your left hand [your right if you’re a leftie] put the harmonica between your thumb and your fingers. Cup your right hand around your harmonica.

STEP THREE: Practise. Most harmonicas have ten holes, helpful ones have the numbers on them. Put your mouth to the harmonica and exhale. Then inhale. You’ll notice that’ll make different notes. Inhaling is also called drawing. Exhale or inhale with a relaxed mouth to play a chord like three and four. If you want to play an individual note pucker your lips like you’re going to whistle and exhale or inhale.

Let’s try some twelve bar blues. Once mastered you can play practically anything - all you need is the tabs.

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President Obama, astronaut Aki Hoshide and that bunch of twelve year old girls on your

bus have all posed in front of their camera or if they‟re old school, turned the camera

around and taken a selfie. With selfie added to the Oxford Dictionary and apps like

Instagram and Snapchat encouraging you take selfies, there seems to be no escape. The

question is, why? Why are selfies so popular? Why do people take them? Is it because we

are narcissist brats crying out for attention? Probably. But I‟m not here to here to bash the

selfie. The selfie isn‟t a new thing, in fact it‟s been around since the first caveman or

cavewoman started to scribble on a cave wall. Selfies are self-portraits, something that

artist have done for thousands of years.

Do you have a drawing that you did when you were little, two or three? It‟s probably of

your parents, or your siblings or your dog or …yourself. Every artist has at some point

created an image of themselves- a self-portrait. Why do artists paint, sculpt or photograph

themselves? I guess it depends on the artist. Sometimes it‟s just because you‟re the best

model, always there, knows exactly what to do, does what you say and never complains.

You‟re practical. But its sometimes something more, self-discovery and an exploration of

who you are. Self-portraits are the artist‟s perspective of themselves and their relationship

with the world around them. Take Picasso‟s self-portrait late 19O1 in Paris. You can clearly

see his perspective of himself and his relationship with the world around him. The painting is

dark, melancholy and a little unnerving. Even though Picasso was a young man when he

painted this, he painted himself like a young man who‟s lived the life of an old man. His

face is a pale death mask, and the intensity of his gaze hits you with a strong sense of

macabre. Picasso looks weary and tired but more than that the painting gives off a strong

sense of loneliness. Picasso at the time was buried with homesickness for Spain and torn

with the excitement of Paris. There‟s something private and deeply personal about self-

portraits, it almost seems invasive viewing one. It could be because self-portraits are

normally always for the artist themselves. They paint, sculpt and photograph them out of

reflection, holding a mirror up to themselves, up to their perceptive of themselves, to see

what they look like from their own eyes.

Maybe the only difference between a selfie and a self-portrait is the thought process which

goes behind it. You take a selfie to put online to show the whole world how pretty you are,

or how funny you are, or how you look like next to your breakfast. A selfie is what you would

like to be- your aspiration .While self-portraits aren‟t completely who you are, they are more

reflective and aren‟t made to get a like from someone, to boast your self-esteem, they‟re

there so the artist themselves can see their flaws, to pour out their emotions into an image

so they can understand it. Which in a way is the same thing that a selfie does, but a selfie is

there to get gratification from other people while a self-portrait isn‟t. I asked the people on

the Knack team of their opinion on selfies- “I think selfie‟s are becoming too common. I

mean it depends on the purpose, if you posting pictures of yourself for no reason it‟s just

online narcissism.” “I think of them as a waste of time….the quality isn‟t that good” but

when I asked them on their opinion on self-portraits-“Self-portraits are much more

interesting” ”Self-portraits take time and have developed meaning”

The first picture ever taken of a human being was a self-portrait- Robert Cornelius, an

aspiring metallurgist, in 1839, while trying to perfect the daguerreotype process took a

photo of himself outside his family‟s store. Ironically enough, Robert‟s picture looks pretty

similar to the average hipster selfie. The first picture of a human is arguably a selfie, it even

has a caption- “The first light picture ever taken”. Another bit of vintage selfie gold is Vivian

Maier‟s self-portraits. They‟re fascinating. Some are portraits of her reflected on mirrors in

different environments, at the hair dresser, in a shop window, in a mirror the moving man is

holding. She manipulated the exposure so she seems translucent, and you can see the

world through her. They were taken in the 5o‟s to 6o‟s, mostly in New York and tell so much

about the era, from a normal person‟s view; she was a street photographer.

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Robert Cornelius’s Self Portrait

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In some ways there is little different to the selfie‟s of this generation. Is all it takes is time for

us to appreciate selfies? After all, they are self-portraits, which tell us so much about the

artist and the culture of the time. Actor-writer James Franco, wrote in The New York, Times “

Of course, the self-portrait is an easy target for charges of self-involvement, but, in a visual

culture, the selfie quickly and easily shows, not tells, how you‟re feeling, where you are,

what you‟re doing. ….Selfies are tools of communication more than marks of vanity but

yes, they can be a bit vain.” In the end it‟s just the thought process that goes behind it

which really matters. So I challenge you next time you pick up your phone to take a selfie,

think. Think about what you are thinking- if it‟s something along the lines of “So and so will

think I‟m so funny in this photo” that‟s a problem. It‟s the major problem with selfies, they

are not really about you at all they are always about other people and what they think. So

to counteract that, make a selfie for YOU. Reflected on who you are and you view of

yourself and don‟t care about what people think about it, because it‟s yours- there‟s a

reason why there‟s a “I” in Selfie.

Aki Hoshide Self portrait

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Vivian Maier Self Portrait

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YjdnotW7Swk&list=PLOBkFqmwCQNdko4K8rNlsXB6G7KEahzEv

By Niamh McCool

The wait is finally over for Empty Valley fans, with Dunes their new album gracing

the music world. Empty Valley is made up of a musically talented duo who enjoy

spreading their music with the world. Will provides the lyrical piano lines and drum

beats while Mikaela uses her strong vocal skills to drive the band forward. Dunes,

their new album, is highly anticipated by the fans. Dunes is an exploration through

themes of self-discovery, love and the woes of life. There are complex melodies,

grounding bass lines and thought provoking lyrics. Dunes, popular new single; a

cover of love song is a free attachment to this advertisement. Love Song sticks to

the same feeling and meaning of the original but has refreshing twist from Mikaela’s ethereal sing style.

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Fallen Dreams

Mikaela Thornton

Kaitlyn watched the dancers move across the stage with panther-like grace.

At the age of eleven, her mother had finally agreed to take her to the ballet.

She sat in the dark room, knowing that all eyes were fixed on the dancers,

watching their every move. They spun and fell and twisted and turned with

movements as fluid as water and Kaitlyn‟s mouth sat open, forming her

unarticulated „wow‟. “Is that dangerous?” Kaitlyn‟s asked her mother as they walked out of the

concert space and to the busy streets. “Very,” her mother warned, “They train for

years and years before they are able to

perform professionally. They stretch and

bend but…” she turned to her daughter

whose small stature made her look younger

than she was. “Humans are fragile things,

Kaitlyn. If those dances fall and break, they

don‟t get back up.” “Kaitlyn, did you even bother to practice?” her teacher reprimanded as Kaitlyn

executed yet another flawed pirouette. “Of course!” she replied, upset. “I just,”

she tried again. “Can‟t do it.” “Alright.” her teacher said. “Show me again.” Kaitlyn tried again but stumbled

and fell to the floor. “You‟re trying too hard,” she said, “overthinking it. Close your eyes.” Kaitlyn did. “Now imagine you‟re all alone. You‟ve just been told you have won a

scholarship to the best dance school in the world. All you want to do is leap

and run and spin for joy.” There was a pause as Kaitlyn waited for more. “Go

on,” her teacher instructed. Eyes closed tight, Kaitlyn thought of that school

and her right foot moved behind her left. Arms coming in front as she pushed

off and spun three circles then stopped arms wide in a perfect presentation. “That, girls, is how you do a pirouette.” Her teacher said with satisfaction.

“Again.” The camera panned to fit both dancers in the shot. Kaitlyn was being lifted into

the air by her male counterpart. Her legs remaining in a perfect split, her outfit

wasn‟t elaborate and her hair was in a simple bun, but she could hardly

expect more for a school performance. She did, however, take note of the

camera. Clearly the school intended to promote her and through her, them.

That was good. In her final year of schooling she had convinced the school to

host a creative arts night. A plethora of performances were scheduled

throughout the night and Kaitlyn was last. She was the finale. This was her

happy thought as she danced across the stage with graceful loping steps. It

was too short, finished to quickly and before she could stand and hear the

applause Kaitlyn was ushered off stage. Her mother approached her with an

unreadable face. “You did well.” “Thank you,” she replied awkwardly. Her mother had never liked the idea of

her becoming a ballerina. She‟d always thought it to be the kind of dream you

get when you‟re six or seven, like a mermaid or a princess. The door flew open almost knocking Kaitlyn‟s mother backward. Kaitlyn surged

forward, into the house waving paper above her head. “They‟re having

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interviews on the 24th!” she exclaimed. “I only have to wait another month and

I‟m in! I‟ve been waiting for this for years now and suddenly it‟s here and I‟ve

been looking at the courses I can do and if I major in -” Her effusive babbling

continued for almost a minute while her mother didn‟t try pretending to be

happy. She had always wanted the best for her daughter. For her to get a

good paying job, a husband who could care for her, kids, but since she was

young she‟d had the foolish idea of dancing. „Dance isn‟t a career! It‟s a

hobby and about as useful as pretty pictures and silly songs.‟ she thought to

herself. Kaitlyn‟s face fell when her eyes came to rest on her mother‟s

expression. “You can‟t even try to be happy for me?” Kaitlyn asked sharply. “It‟s not that, darling, it‟s just. I thought you would have chosen something else

by now.” “What?” “I thought that you would have chosen something-“her mother repeated but

was cut off. “I heard what you said, I just didn‟t believe it. Mom, you know how important

this is to me. I‟ve always loved dance and you‟ve never been able to accept

it.” Angry and upset said things she would regret. “Just because your mom

forced you to live the most boring life possibly doesn‟t give you the right to

make me stay.” There was a shocked silence before Kaitlyn walked out the

door. She spun on her toes moving so quickly that the judges were blurred and came

out of the pirouette perfectly controlled and presented, finished. They loved

her and she knew it. She knew they didn‟t need to question her on her

dedication or ask her where she had studied. When the interview ended,

Kaitlyn walked out the door to her friends who peppered her with variations of,

“how did you go?” Though confident, she replied with feigned uncertainty. Her

friends would do the same, it was just to make each other feel better. When Kaitlyn received information that she was wanted and had been offered

a scholarship, she delightfully accepted. A memory resurfaced, of her dance

teacher years ago, talking about that feeling. Kaitlyn did a pirouette and it was

perfect. Turning up on the first day of tertiary education with more experience

that even some of her mentors was something she relished. Every question she

answered correctly and was the topic of gossip continually by good friends,

jealous students and proud teachers. How bright her future was, how she was

such a natural and of course that each of them had helped her. How each of

them a part of her journey. The big night came all too soon but Kaitlyn had practiced and practiced. Her

costume was stunning, her hair in and elaborate braided bun and she had

literally sat for hours as they did her makeup. This was it; her first professional

performance. Her cue came and she walked up onto the stage, baking under

the bright lights. She positioned herself on stage and then the music began.

Slowly, ever so slowly her arms extended outward, then to the left, her body

bending with the movement. She stared past the crowed. They were all there,

every eye on her watching her every move. And suddenly Kaitlyn was afraid.

What do they think? And if it ends badly? She crossed her leg behind the other

in preparation for the pirouette. Why were the lights so bright? Could they see

her every flaw? She pushed off the ground and spun, focused on perfection.

She tripped and fell onto the hard and unforgiving floor.