I remember my own ballet classes. I remember wanting to get older so I too could get beautiful point ballet shoes with a pink ribbon to tie up my legs. But I was tall, gawky, and just not very good, and just could not remember the French names of the moves. I quit, and then we moved to Paris. France. I tried again, now that I spoke french, but I was still tall , gawky and just not a ballerina. which doesn’t stop me from loving “so you think you can dance” and watching my daughter’s ballet classes with my nose glues to the window…so when I had the opportunity to spend rehearsal time with Liv’art rehearsal time, I couldn’t help myself – I was fascinated by the girls’ determination and work and time and effort and seat and probably tears and some blood too. I only picked three photos, and if you’re part of the school you can view the rest of the images here.