Dance

I vividly remember pink tights, little pink ballet slippers and a black leotard. I was a five-year old ballerina. I loved pointing my toes, and doing plies as I participated in a concert for the families. I’m not sure why but I stopped going to ballet class when I started “big” school.

Dance, in some form or another, has always been part of my life. It’s one of the activities where I feel alive and connected with everything around me, the music going through me as I lose myself in dance.

Every once in a while the image of a five-year old Regina pops into my mind and I smile, making a note to myself to get out there and spend an evening dancing.

 

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