“Are you deadlining?” a friend e-mailed yesterday. I like that.
Actually, I’m deadlining today, sort of (I’m finishing the first chapter of my brief life of George Balanchine), so I don’t expect to post anything more until well into the evening, if then. Apologies, and further apologies for having ignored the mailbox for the past few days. I know Our Girl is cooking away at her blogpot, though I don’t know when the dish will be finished. Here’s hoping.
In lieu of a real post, here’s the epigraph of the Balanchine book. Ruthanna Boris, a choreographer who danced for Balanchine, said it to Francis Mason in I Remember Balanchine, Francis’ priceless collection of oral-history interviews:
After I retired from dancing, I was sitting on the bench with Balanchine at the School of American Ballet while he rehearsed. As they were working, he said to me, “You know, those men in Tibet up in the mountains. They sit nude in the cave and they drink only water through straw and they think very pure thoughts.” I said, “Yes, the Tibetan monks. The lamas.” He said, “Yes. You know, that is what I should become. I would be with them.” And then he looked around and said, “But unfortunately, I like butterflies.”
Isn’t that nice? I’m having fun with this book.
Now go have a good day. I’ll see you Friday.