Ever since I could remember myself, I’ve been dancing.
Since I was little, I used to move my body to music, any kind of music, just to feel the rhythm in my joints and to express my happiness physically.
When I was five years old, I was sent to rhythmic gymnastics classes at the local community center. It was a combination of dancing and playing with different objects – a ball, a hoop, a ribbon and clubs. I felt in my natural element.
I loved the exercises to develop flexibility, which became more advanced with time. I loved the work on coordination, and learning to control all the different objects. I loved the choreographies that I had to remember by heart. I felt as if the music was filling me from inside.
I remember looking up to my coach, thinking she was the most perfect creature on the planet
Looking back, I find it amazing that all of these exercises didn’t seem to me as difficulties or challenges. I just practiced them and enjoyed every moment of it.
One day, suddenly, they closed down the community center. They locked the gate with a big lock and there were no more classes. An experience and a process that was cut prematurely.
My next chance was at elementary school. We had to choose different classes and activities – and one option was Oriental dance. I did not think twice, since it had the word dance in it. It was such a different style, and yet so natural in my body.
At the same time – I began to take classes in classical ballet. The connection with my teacher, Dvora, was instant. She felt and understood me. It was as if she was reading my thoughts through the position of my wrist, the movement of the foot, and the direction of the gaze.
Ballet was a lot more demanding than anything I had experienced so far. It required adjusting all the muscles, concentration and attention to the smallest details, while maintaining inner fire. Looking from the outside, it was very clear if a dancer ‘had it in them or not’.
As I grew older and deepened my roots in this demanding world, the level of difficulty increased. I felt new sensations of disappointment and failure, which suddenly came in the same breath with dancing.
My most beloved thing became frustrating.
My body stopped me from dancing the way I imagined, from expressing myself as I wanted. My improvement was slow and incredibly Sisyphean. The work was very stressful.
There was also satisfaction, but no catharsis. Something was missing and I couldn’t find the words to say what it was.
My Second Home Disappeared
I worked hard and got the role of the Prima Ballerina in our small company, a title that wasn’t said out loud, and didn’t have any meaning outside the studio with the mirrored wall.
I grew up, and it was time to leave and join the army. It was very sad since I still had so much to improve in. It was another experience that was stopped before I reached the full intensity of it.
When I had to leave, Dvora, my teacher, also felt that she had to leave. The hole that had opened was too big, and she quit teaching ballet after many beautiful and successful years.
I felt as if I had nowhere to go back to, as if my second home had disappeared. Writing these words now and remembering these moments, I become deeply emotional and my eyes tear up.
During my military service I felt the urge to move and perform growing. I wanted that sweet sensation, which I had only tasted at special events like “end of the year show” or at important ceremonies.
One time, when I went to see a dance show at the Suzanne Dellal Center, I got a flier for a circus school. I thought to myself: “What a dream!” and pinned it to the board at the entrance of my room. A good friend of mine saw the flier and asked me: “Cool! Are you going?” I answered “No… What are the odds…”. He took the flier with him. A week later, after he had researched the place personally, he came and informed me: “This place is amazing! You have to go!”
So - I went…
I gained courage and stepped out of my comfort zone. The minute I walked into the school I understood that he was right. I felt home again. All around me were people in strange positions, hanging between heaven and earth, exercising various physical abilities with endless possibilities.
My heart was dancing and jumping in all directions! This is where the action is! This is what I’ve been looking for!
If you have seen our show, you could tell that this is the exact moment I talk about in the beginning of my act.
So I signed up for a training program at the circus school in Israel.
At the same time, I met Gal Baz. Together we dreamt even bigger and went to study circus at the “Carampa” school in Madrid. There I learned skills and techniques from the best teachers in Europe. I was truly inspired. I developed a personal style, unique to me, which I love.
Trainig in the circus school
The combination of these two worlds was inevitable for me. The ballet with its strict rules, seriousness and precision kept me from losing focus in a world of unlimited creativity. The circus on the other hand, spices things up with laughter and playfulness and allows twists, which don’t exist in the classical world.
This is how I keep my balance – Literally.