A tight backstage room.
Fumes from hairspray intoxicating a tight backstage room.
Chaos,
bobby-pins, tan and black,
flying aimlessly.
It is hot backstage,
the walls the color of earl gray tea.
The toes of the apparently perfect, are broken, bruised, concealed inside pretty pink slippers delicately touching the chalk buckets in every corner of the room.
Pandemonium.
Bustling people elegantly dressed in every color imaginable.
Feathers,
diamonds,
flowers,
leotards,
point shoes,
tights,
tutus.
Dancers racing around behind the curtains struggling to find their cue.
The frightened ballerinas pacing backstage,
with visions of turns and leaps dancing in their heads.
Dance ballerina to the sound of the classical piano.
All the chaos backstage concealed from the elegance on stage.
All concealed from the wealthy parents sitting in velvet chairs.
All concealed from the rest of the world.
All concealed in a tight backstage room.
Nutcracker Ballet From: lifesylepubs.wordpress.s3-us-west-2.amazonaws.com
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