Finally home...

This summer signifies a big change in my life, and I guess this is the reason for me to start writing.
I have been a dancer for the past (almost) 20 years; well... I started studying ballet about that long ago, but worked as a professional dancer only for the past ten. Nobody really knows why I wanted to be a dancer - not even I, since it is clearly not the "normal" dream of an 11 year old boy, growing up in a tiny village in southern Germany. But here I was, nagging my parents day in and day out about wanting to take ballet lessons. They finally gave in, and I started attending a small studio in a neighboring town. I still remember waiting in the sitting area for my first class to start, as a constant stream of students entered - consisting of only girls. My mother kept asking me: "should we just leave? it's OK..."
Needless to say, I stayed around and was taught my first dance steps a few minutes later. I couldn't tell how well I did, since i was mostly concentrating on following the teacher's instructions, but I must have done OK, which became clear when Thea (that was her name) asked me right after the class if I wanted to become a professional dancer. My face started glowing, and I took a deep breath to answer to her question... but was interrupted by my slightly nervous mother, who answered on my behalf.
"The boy is eleven years old! How is he gonna know what he wants to do with the rest of his life? This was his first class... maybe we should give him a chance to figure out if he even likes it some time down the road..."
Well... i did. It didn't take long before Thea came to speak to me and my mother again. This time she told me about a famous ballet school in Stuttgart, that held annual auditions for children from the age of twelve. She made clear that a school of that caliber would be the only way for me to become a professional, and that she could help me to get ready for the entrance exam.
I went home that night and wrote a letter to the school, requesting information- and registration material without my parents knowing about it. What a surprise, when a week later a large envelope from Stuttgart appeared in our mail box!!!
Long story short... After weeks of torturing my parents and a few months of preparing, I went to the audition, and was accepted.
A new era started, with me in boarding school about two hours away from home. It was a tough time for my family... giving a twelve year old boy into the custody of complete strangers cannot be an easy thing for any parent (Today I joke with my mom a lot about it... saying that she never liked me, which is why she sent me off to boarding school when i was a little, defenseless boy. Mind you - I was the stubborn one, while they scraped together every cent they could find to pay for my extravagant wishes).
Back to the story.
As proud as I was of my accomplishment of having become a student in a world renowned school, what followed were the six hardest years of my life. While the teachers most certainly knew how to teach a kid how to dance, they were just about the meanest and most abusive people one can imagine to run a school. But hey... it's results that count, right!?
Anyway... I rather skip this whole chapter of my life for now.
At age 18 i decided that it was time for me to switch gear, and I entered a modern dance school in Munich, which was amazing. I learned a lot about different dance styles- and techniques, and realized that ballet is not the only thing out there. I lived on my own for the first time, I got drunk for the first time, come to think of it... I stayed up until after 10PM for the first time!
Life was great; I felt free, respected, appreciated and supported by teachers and directors - which was something entirely foreign to me. Even though the schedule was draining (six hours of dance classes, followed by three hours of classroom hours per day), I LOVED it. I regained the passion for dance, that had been beaten out of me during the past six years.
I was able to cut my three years in Munich down to two years, and i danced in the Company of the director during my second year as a student. In the evenings i taught kids ballet classes, and was altogether pretty much dancing about 23 1/2 hours a day - or so it seemed.
Through one of my teachers in Munich, i got in touch with the Merce Cunningham studio in New York, where i auditioned in 1998 and was accepted for the fall of the same year.
So... off I went, with two suitcases and enough money to support myself for a couple of months. I stayed with a friend on the upper west side, and attended my daily classes. A few months into the quarter, I was offered to be part of the Repertory Group - a select group of dancers, who perform Merce's choreographies for smaller events. In my case, I did several months of performances in High Schools as part of the Lincoln Center Arts and Education Program. Let me tell you... there is not much more humbling, than performing in a pastel yellow leotard in front of 200 teenagers! Fun, Fun, Fun... (for them).
One evening I was walking past Lincoln Center, and saw that a free performance was about to start. Without an idea what was playing, I made my way further to the front. And this is when I saw Les Ballets Trockadero de Monte Carlo for the very first time.
I was blown away!!! This was it!
I never stopped loving ballet, but during my Stuttgart experience I have somehow learned to connect ballet with pain, humiliation, abuse and negativity. But what i saw at this out of doors event that evening brought back my memories of WHY i wanted to be a dancer in the first place! Because it was FUN for me. When i first started, I wanted to turn my passion into my profession, but instead my profession turned into a hell even before I was a professional!
Through a series of events I managed to get in touch with the Director of the Trocks, auditioned one fine Monday (January 3rd 2000), and was on tour with them on Wednesday (Jan. 5th). It all happened so fast. Before I knew it I checked into one Hotel after another, learned how to put on pointe shoes, Make up, wigs, Tutus, and was on stage almost every day.
I guess dreams do come true sometimes...!? But there is another saying: "If the gods want to punish you, they answer your prayers".
I cannot tell you how many times i have asked god to give me a chance to travel. I wanted to see the world and visit cities I could barely find on the map. Back in Stuttgart I would leave my High school grounds during my 15 minutes break, run to a travel agency to get a catalog and spend the next days studying it. I literally prayed every day to go to all the places I "knew" from those catalogs. I guess god must have gotten sick and tired of my nagging him, and he finally said: "you want to travel??? I'll give you travel!!!
So this is what i did. Dance and travel for the next eight years. At this point it is easier for me to list the countries I have NOT visited during my time with the Trocks, and I am very thankful for every single thing I got to see. Time flew by... I had highlights and low points, loved and cursed my job, but never lost the pleasure I felt once I was on stage, making people in the audience smile, giggle or simply enjoy what I had to offer. I guess it didn't occur to me for a long time, but an artist can actually make differences in people's lives. I went through a whole period of my life where I thought I didn't contribute anything important to the world - comparing myself to doctors, nurses, ambassadors or even garbage men, who very directly make this world a better, healthier, safer or cleaner place to live in. But one day I heard about a Lady who was in one of our performances. She told our ballet mistress about her very sick daughter, and that this evening was the first time in years that she actually laughed - really laughed. I guess this was when i realized that I also made a small difference to the better in the world. It felt amazing.

Anyway...
As of February 2008, I left the Company. Although I enjoyed dancing and traveling until the very end, I decided that it was time for me to take some time at home with my partner of over eight years, and our two Shih Tzus. (For the ones who don't know... Manolo gave me a little puppy for my 30th birthday. Her name is Fiby, and she is just amazing!!!) Being separated from Manolo for months at a time became more and more difficult for the both of us, and I chose to settle down. This is where the title to this story comes in... FINALLY HOME.
I can't even begin to describe how happy I am to be here, without constantly seeing my suitcase ready to be packed in the middle of our guest bedroom. It is such a joy to have time for everything. Before, there was always this pressure for time... everything had an expiration date attached. If we were having a great time, fun and happiness, I would say: "Let's enjoy it now... on Sunday I am leaving again." If we had discussions or arguments, I would say: "Let's wrap it up now... on Sunday I am leaving again." Finally we can have fun, laugh, argue, discuss and enjoy without the thought of a departure date.
We have also just taken our first steps into a new, bright and exciting future, by attending the certificate program in interior design at the college. After decorating our own home one room at a time, we have clearly developed more than a taste for the business, and can't wait to see what the future brings.
OK... enough for today. Fiby (the puppy) is desperately trying to get me away from the computer. And she has got me wrapped around her little claws!