It took until (almost) June to write about Blue Until June, but alas, here we are.

When the final (metaphoric) curtain dropped on our season closing program, I was consumed by teary celebrations of a veteran dancer’s retirement bow. It wasn’t until a few moments later that I felt the pang of missing this ballet.

It’s normal to miss a good ballet when the run is over, especially the kind that brings the cast together to tell an intricate human story through some of the best music ever recorded. But this time the curtain hit the stage extra hard because the appearance of ballets like this one feels rarer than ever.

The little I’ve written on this blog recently has been decidedly melancholy- I hope it’s not bringing you down! Sometimes when good things pass through your body for a short while, it makes their absence feel stronger, and the battle within you ever more fiery. I’ve been living in this mental space of missing things before they are over, perhaps because I am feeling the need for some change in my life. But what kind of change?

Much of the change that has happened in my life has been through natural growth. Sure, there have been a few abrupt, shocking shifts in circumstance. But most have been a slow progression of goals, hard work, and progress. I’ve rarely felt an itch to change- this unfamiliar nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach. They always tell you to “listen to you gut” but never tell you quite how to decipher the incoherent whines warbles. That part is up to you.

A change in surroundings? A shift in the daily nouns: People, places, things? What exactly does that little voice in me need to let my natural growth carry on unencumbered? How can I be sure? How will it all work? And when?

For now, I don’t know. For now, I’ll be searching. For June, I’ll be listening inward and looking outward.

photos by Trey MacIntyre and Dylan Giles.