Eleven.

In just about ELEVEN days, I move to Boston.
For my ninth summer with the Boston Ballet's Summer Dance Program.

Pure.
 Joy.


Clearly, we have a lot fun.
Like, a lot, alot.
Too much, sometimes.
Especially if we're dancing the night away at Tequila Rain.
Nine summers of the Glorious City of Boston.

Nine summers of wonderful and amazing dancers.
Nine summer of incredible friends.

What is now a decade after I started...
I've seen my "kids" apply and go to college.
Travel the world.
Dance.
Stop dancing.
Dance again.
Audition for companies.
And SYTYCD.
Fall in love.
Get married.
Start families.
Move across the country.
Move across the globe.
Volunteer.
Give back.
Teach.
Blog.
Become Broadway Stars.
Even break up.
And get divorced.
Fail out of school.
Struggle to discover what it is they are meant to do.
Hit rock bottom.
And get up to dance again.


And more than anything else I do, I love them all.
I love them in their hard times.
When they aren't really sure they are on the right path.
Or if they have the strength to keep going.

The way I learned to love myself this year, is the way I have always loved them.
With a fierceness.
And unending love.

I simply can't wait for another summer, a new crop.
And to Miss Emma, who will be joining us from my school in Philly: Can't wait for you to fall in love with the city!

Hey matterers, anyone had a summer job they loved?  This job allows me to be outside so much!  Running on the esplanade, traveling around the city and some great Field Trips make for great exercise!

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