Photo by Natalia Fioroni
Ballet I may not know, but beauty I may know, and Ballet is beautiful. There is some kind of grace in every second of its movements that your eyes can't help but to trace, and your heart to tickle with an unknown joy. I haven't been to a live show, but I always admired it from distance. I remember when I was a kid, my mother signed me up for a Gymnastic class, that was in fact some kind of a basic ballet course. That's because I live in a coutry- Iran- that any kind of dance is considered to be a violation of the Islamic regulations, or as they say: it's HARAM. So they had to hide it under names and more names. I used to like it and princing around while showing it off to everyone I knew. I guess I was born an attention whore.
Anywho, I don't like this photo because of the Ballet or the photographer's great technique. I like the idea of the Ballet dancer as both a puppet and a puppeteer; A puppet who pulls her own strings while trying to keep her balance. It's a great metaphore of how the rules we apply in our life, will eventually rule our life if we let them. Every great technique is a tyranny in itself if one doesn't master it enough to be able to change, add, or apply her own rules to it. And till she gets there, she is just a pupil, if not a slave of her ignorance. No matter how picture-perfect she looks, she is just a puppet trying to maintain a balance.
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