She got into aerial work by happenstance, but now that she’s here, she loves it. It’s harder work than all four years of Cheerios combined. It’s harder than anything she learned in nearly two decades of dance. No matter how much she practices, her muscles ache at the end of the day, and she has to have a long soak in scented bath salts before bed. She’s tired, and she’s sore, and she’s stronger than she’s ever been.
The idea of trapeze was appealing, all those flips through the air, but ultimately, the power and grace of the silks won her over. She loves wrapping the length of fabric around her hands, hooking it with her legs, and turning and twisting herself up and up, until she’s coiled at the ceiling. She loves hanging upside down, spinning in wide circles over the crowd, holding herself at impossible angles with her core strength.
Most of all, she loves wrapping the silks around and around her body, until she’s wrapped like a caterpillar in a cocoon, warm and safe. Poised. Waiting. She can be anything. She can do anything.
And then she’s falling, falling, falling. She’s free, and just at the last moment, just before she hits the polished wooden floor below, she catches herself.
She catches herself. That’s what the silks have taught her.