While sifting through my things the other day, tucked away in a small box filled with childhood toys I found my old pair of ballet shoes. The leather was worn in a faded shade of rosey pink, they were small enough to fit in the palms of my hands. It seemed very appropriate to me to find them, being that I have been reminiscing about my grandfather lately. My grandfather made these tiny shoes for me when I was maybe six years old.
He worked at Kling's Theatrical Shoe Chicago. While going through my things I also found a black and white photo of him working at the factory. He looked so happy with his comrades. What a job, what a gift,what a life...
To think of the shoes he might of made and the dancers that wore them.
Those who leaped into the air suspended by shear determination, willed with grace and veracity. I can remember during my young and impressionable years I thought Michel Baryshnikov was the greatest thing since jolly ranchers. I had a poster of him in my bedroom soaring up through the air, in perfect form, I idolized him. I think if a kid could be so fortunate every little girl or boy should have a pair of ballet shoes. No they don't need to be made by your grandfather but just to have to ware to dance and let your mind wonder of what could be. To me ballet shoes are a ticket to the imagination a right to dream BIG to let yourself go in freedom, art and form. I always say dreams are free, and you got to start somewhere....................................................................................................!
