“Once burned by milk you will blow on cold water,” not only was Nicholson “burned” by the seductive allure of ballet, but her love soured despite her doing everything she possibly could. So much of ballet is a paradox: it is beautiful on stage but ugly in it’s preparation, It take a lifetime of training but you must come to it nearly perfect in order to succeed long term. “Ballet is not something you can grow into” The sales woman with the messy carrot top hair and stubby fingers tells a young Nicholson who has yet to even reach puberty. Nicholson pursues a love she is told from the beginning to avoid, but what kind of love is unable to “grow?” Nicholson still chooses to love the one thing that offers her no certainty, no compassion, and no remorse coming to dismiss those who do not see what she does. Perhaps that’s why she loves ballet so much, after all nothing is more enticing then what you have been told you can not have. What makes Nicholson’s love unique or perhaps foolish is her willingness to sacrifice any and everything in her attempt to have ballet love her back or even recognize her existence. The knowledge of an ideal form possibly gave her hope that one day she could fit it, but Balanchine “invented the baby ballerina… [he] created a new fetish” a new unattainable standard for the American Ballerina one that …show more content…
She uses the anecdotes as a means of representing the outside influences on her dance career; her performance is never truly for her, but rather for the audience and the elusive affection of ballet. By the third position she has learned “Not to blame the mirror if [her] face is cooked” instead she blames herself. The mirror only reflects what Nicholson see's of herself not what is actually there. Nicholson strives to be “the obedient horse,” but she does so by butchering a person she never got to know. Nicholson seeks out isolation, obsession, and perfection while achieving none. In her attempt to protect her ballet standing she removes everything that is her. “[She] knew she would never be pure…never truly [feel] beautiful or satisfied with herself,” yet she still leaps toward the abusive love of ballet. Nicholson has no idea who or what she is without ballet. The problem is far deeper and much worse then being consumed by ballet there is no her, only role models and idols she must become, whether it be Balanchine her favorite compositionist or the bevy of talent she