#balet dancer

[dance-world]

Leonardo Baghin - Balet Národního divadla moravskoslezského

[badeabianca]

🪐🫶🏻🩰 • @operanationalabucuresti @intermezzodance #ambassador #intermezzo #intermezzodance #intermezzoambassadors #dancewithintermezzo #ballerina #ballet #balerina #balet #dance #dancer #balletinfluencer #danceinfluencer #instadance #instaballet #instaballerina #balletpost #pointeshoes #balletphotoshoot #photoballet #pointeshoes #balletpointe @ballet___lovers @love.pointe @worldwideballet @worldwidedance @bestballetinspo @balletclub_ @future_ballerinas_ @beauty._.ballerina @balett_lover @ballet__queens @quotes_and_ballet @balletbeautifulgirls @ballet.addiction @balletmoods @balletdanseur @ballet__queens @_._ballet.addiction_._ @sobailarinosrenato_ @sobailarinos_ @gaynorminden @gaynorgirls @gaynorminden_europe #gaynorgirls #gaynorminden #mygaynorminden • #aitadance #aitabucuresti #aitaambassador #balletshoes @aita.dance.stores @aitabucuresti @aitacluj • #casadebalet #biancabadea (at Opera Națională București) https://www.instagram.com/p/CpOA2X8odWz/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[mateus-art-star]

Minha linda bailarina lunar ❤🌙

Esses dias eu passei na faculdade da ítalo e vi um evento de balé q tava acontecendo lá e gostei muito, mas fiquei impressionado com a historia da minha mãe querendo se tornar bailarina, então fiquei inspirado em fazer esse desenho.

[astramachina]

OH HEY

If you liked La Bomba (which has a heavy salsa influence, that being what helped it to the top of a lot of charts), he has another song called Pégate which is a lot more traditional in its form of "bomba y plena" (with a hint of mainstream pop, obviously), which are the two main musical stylings that compose Puerto Rico's folkloric music and dance! It also includes a le lo lai, a traditional chant that goes hard as fuck if you wanna dance to it.

Ricky Martin - La Bomba 1998

Puerto Rican singer-songwriter Ricky Martin began his musical career at twelve as a member of Puerto Rican boyband Menudo. His solo career started in 1991, and his third album, A Medio Vivir (1995), helped him rise to prominence in European countries.

"La Bomba" was the third single from his fourth studio album, Vuelve (1998). The album earned Martin his first Grammy Award. The song's title, which translates to "the Bomb" in English, is derived from the Afro-Puerto Rican dance music of the same name. Lyrically, it is a metaphor in which Martin compares the bomba music "to a drink that makes you drunk; the listener is high from the rhythm of the dance".

"La Bomba" is one of Martin's most commercially successful songs in his career. It was a top-five hit in Central American countries, including Costa Rica, El Salvador, Guatemala, and Nicaragua. The song peaked at number 27 on the US Billboard Hot Latin Tracks chart while in the same week, the song peaked at numbers 11 and 13 on Billboard's Latin Pop Songs and Tropical/Salsa charts, respectively. In Spain, it reached number five, giving Martin his second top-five hit in the country, following his 1998 chart-topper hit, "La Copa de la Vida". "La Bomba" also peaked in the top 40 of several non Spanish-speaking countries, such as Australia and Sweden. It won the award for Best Danceable Tune at the 1999 Premios Eres.

"La Bomba" received a total of 85,3% yes votes!

[askganon]

Your majesty have you ever seen an opera? with live orchestra and balet dancers? It's truly an amazing sight to behold if one is lucky enough to see a live show.

I am curious if you are a fan of the arts or like to visit museums. I really love the arts & history. I'm a historian.

Have a good day/evening your majesty.

I have. They were among the few pieces of Hylian art I found enjoyable. We Gerudo have something similar, though it is not so formal and strict. Never thr less, it is a most interesting and beautiful way to portray a story.

I am of course a large supporter of the arts. They are a way to express ideas and emotions through the telling of stories both simple and abstract. Without such expressions, we would be no different than animals.

Even my bokoblins can create art, albeit in a primitive sense.

[barcalover86]

Hey! I love your work <3

Can I ask for a Gavi x reader where the reader is a dancer and she had a horrible season because she always got placed worse than before and actually breaks down in front of Gavi thinking she is the worst dancer but he comforts him and telling her she is not bad at all?

Thank you<33

Disappointed - Pablo Gavi

If this is about you, I'm sorry to hear that. If anyone finds themselves in this type of story, I'm with you! As an performance athlet I know that is hard, but enjoy the moments!!! It's hard and I know it, but if you smile through the pain, it's going to get easier. I promise you that!

I don't know how a dancer season goes and if here's about balet or another type of dancing, but I'm going to what I know. Enjoy!

You arrived home after a big fight with your couch. She said you were bad and lately you've been having a lot of troubles with dancing right. Forgetting what you had to do because of all the pressure, wasn't helping you with the bad performance you had in the last competitions.

You were mad. You trained hard and sacrificed everything for this sport to get nowhere. It felt like in this moment, all you wanted to do is forget about dancing.

When Gavi saw your tired and frustrated face, he was concerned about you.

"Que pasa, amor?"

"Bad training."

Your reply was so dry, making Pablo even more concerned about you. He knew the life of an athlete wasn't easy at all, but it shouldn't be something where you just can't find happiness anymore.

He signed you to come sit in his arms, bow cuddling while asking what happened. His hands were in your hair, making you relax a bit.

You didn't speak at first, but after you were more comfortable, you felt like you had to free out your negative emotions.

You told him about how you are disappointed because of your performance and how you can't do anything to improve it, feeling like nothing worked.

He listened to you, until you were done.

"First, amorcito, stop crying, ok?" he raised your chin to look into his eyes. "Second, you are one of the nest dancer I've ever seen-"

"You just say that because I'm your girlfriend"

"Que- no! Exactly because I'm your boyfriend, I have to tell you my true opinion and to be honest with you. Listen up, cariño. I love the way you dance. You make it so emotional, and every time I see you, I get lost in your moves. You have a talent, and it would be a waste if you want to give up. Don't get me wrong here, I will support you through every decision, but you have to know that in this life, nothing is easy. I myself have some bad games, but they make me better next time. Maybe you don't see it yet, but promise you, in time, you will. Maybe for you, this season was bad, but the next one will be better. You know why? Because you didn't give up! Because you are brave, strong, talented and amazing. If you feel like you are worth nothing at the team you are, we can change it. You have to be happy and exited when you go to training. Being comfortable around people will make you perform better, preciosa. Si, my sweet dancer?"

You looked at him with tears in your eyes, nodding.

"You are amazing, Pablo. Thank you.."

He kissed your lips. "Now we can relax a bit after our hard session."

"How was your training?"

He laughed. "Oh you would love to hear this."

2nd Masterlist

[madphantom]

that balet dancers leg look quite surreal almost as if they are made of quartz or of a victorian automaton/pos

Who knows

[beaartdesign]

Balet dancer. Ballerina pastel.

[yangsoeuvre]

Chapter I: Indak Agui

To our ancestor,

Your stories are buried but never dead.

"What a sorry devotion for people I don't remember and gods I've never met."

A grimace crosses the twelve-year-old girl's features as she skips and spins barefoot along a circular path, trying to keep up with taper candles on both hands. With a swing of her head, the Panalangin commences with the candle's flame lighting a part of Indak Agui's hair. Despite the trouble, she whips her singed strands away from the fire and continues to mimic the person in front of her as they dance outside the spaces barricaded with bamboo fences.

Candlelit jars hang above the streets of Baryo Bonifacio, illuminating Indak's skin like fire-gold on the nineteenth takna. From the sides, a band of dabakan and kulintang play a tune similar to wind chimes and heavy rain, the sounds blending rhythmically as the people frisk and sway in sync to the melody. At the center of their ritual stands a balyan dressed in layers of okir-designed malong and kamagi necklaces ornamented with blue glass beads.

The balyan takes a bolo knife and butchers three pigs on a wooden cutting board. Blood pours on the taotao representing their land's nature spirits and deities, spilling down the large table and trailing on broken cement. Under the lights of the ball lanterns wrapped around balete trees, its crimson color casts a vibrant hue. As the music ends and the dancers slow to a stop, the balyan squeezes the remaining blood in a coconut bowl and lifts it to the sky.

"We offer to Tala Mayari, our first pinuno, for the purged eleven years ago that they may rest peacefully in Maka. To the tribes of Agui, Arimaonga, Dalikmata, Ipamahandi, Maya, and Sisina: himoa nga mamaayo ang imong mga samad sa tubig nga imong giagian, paanura ang imong kalag sa mainit nga paggakos sa mga nangamatay nga una kanimo." (Let your wounds heal in the water you walk through, drown your soul in the warm embrace of those who died before you.)

"We offer to our supreme deity, Bathala, for a peaceful welcome in this new year and for the previous pinuno, whom responsible for such crime, receive punishment accordingly in Kasanaan and hope no darker soul may ever cross this land again. We offer to all our deities and ancestors for this year's batch of future balyan as they take the Sinugdanan two days from now: obedience and service to Urduja forevermore."

The balyan dips their hand in the bowl and slides their blood-soaked fingers on the faces of the people circling them. Indak Agui holds her breath when her turn comes, and her eyebrows twitch as the balyan's fingers unintentionally poke her eyelids. It took everything in her to not turn her head away as the metallic stench of mammalian blood overpowers the reek of tuba from drunken old people playing cards in store corners.

The celebration concludes with everyone touching their foreheads to the floor. Once the crowd disperses after a few more whispers of oaths and prayers, the ritual ends with jolly, soulful music embracing the night. At this moment, calloused fingers grab her by the shoulders and urges her to turn around.

The girl jumps in surprise at the sudden touch. Realizing it was only her mother, she sighs in relief and glares at the older woman. "A little notice of your arrival would help, Ma. Though I don't really mind spending the new year in the next life, maybe as someone more relevant like the Mayari."

"Don't talk like that, Indak." Chada Venancio, her mother, gives her daughter a reprimanding stare as she palms the dirt and blood off her shirt. She drops the girl's abaca slippers next to her feet and gestures her to wear them. "Now, did you receive the prayers with a clear mind? Remember, you cannot be blessed by your ancestors if you muddy your thoughts with grudges."

Indak snorts as she puts on her slippers. "Grudges? I barely remember them enough for a deep mourning. I don't think I could cultivate vengeance for people that are practically strangers to me, if that's what you're worrying about."

This blessing ritual—the Panalangin—meant to celebrate the new year with a tribute to the purge that annihilated six tribes of Urduja, their nation, eleven years ago, and layer another curse to the pinuno that sentenced those tribes to death. It has been this way for the last ten years of Panalangin. In all honesty, Indak Agui genuinely does not feel any strong emotions for the passing of her tribe for they were exterminated long before she could build relationships with them. Even so, she does think that, for such a gruesome part of their history, the prayers meant for the victims sound more like an afterthought than sincere lamentation for the dead.

She might have maintained ignorance for most of her little life, but ever since last year, this day permanently marked her thoughts with stories of how her tribe crashed along with the rest of the victims of such a horrific event. Amidst her relatives' constant retelling of those times, her continuing existence became her only consolation, the result of her parents hiding away with her before the tragedy could reach her.

"But, Ma, don't you also think that the circumstances of the Six Point Bloodbath should have been a separate rite?", Indak murmurs. "Why would they just merge it with the blessing ritual? If they cared enough about the less influential tribes, there would have been a week long holiday."

Still, the thirty-seven year old woman's eyes widen, startled by her words. She briefly sweeps her gaze around them before pinching her daughter's blood-marked cheek. "Indak Agui!"

A scowl takes over Indak's face as she pulls away from her. "What? It's a decent observation, Ma."

"Indak, of course Urduja cares about every soul in its land. Your tribe and all the other tribes' circumstances were truly devastating, but look around. All these people gathered here today have all of their hearts laid out for you. Even your teachers in the Akademya give you lesser punishment whenever you seek trouble with the other children. They understand our grief and how much of it changes us," Chada whispers, her voice transforming into a soothing tone. "Now, focus on praying for their souls to sail to Maka in peace. Avoid reflecting on less consequential things. The amount of presence and solidarity when in grief means more than these rites."

Indak steps back. "All the mentors in the Akademya only act like that so I don't suddenly decide to become a bloodthirsty avenger each time they forget my name and what my tribe does, Ma. Plus, I'm not the one seeking trouble. Those other children constantly pester me, so I just give them what they want."

Chada combs a hand through Indak's chestnut hair. "Ginoo ko, Indak Agui. What have you been up to recently that you have learned to cultivate these absurd thoughts? Your father is still not home, so it's best you stay out of suspicion as best as you can."

Suspicion?

Indak sighs, ducking out of her mother's hold. "Are we done? We're running out of meat."

Before Chada could say another word, the girl steals the basket in her hand and bounces off to the space that hosted the ritual.

She joins the rest of the children gathered around to help their guardians stack parts of the pig in nito baskets. In the midst of carrying a large chop of bloodied meat, her thoughts wander to her room, envisioning the stitching on silk of fiery gates and a flaming field stuck on the wall across her bed.

For all the ghastly things this blessing ritual reminds her of, at least that one work of art remains a wonderful distraction that her father gave her as a new year's gift before his departure yesterday.

"Our fire burns the brightest, little flame, an inferno unbridled by those who hold authority over our afterlife. With enough power, it could birth a blazing hamlet, and only then we would be free."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Specks of light warm the classrooms through the open windows as uncontrolled volumes of speaking tones entangle with a few whispers.

From the front row chairs, Indak Agui leans on the table with her arms folded under her chin. She stares at the large board in front of her, memorizing its chalk-smeared areas and rectangular shape as dust falls on gritty concrete.

Beside her, Gunita, her cousin, crafts her usual paper birds and blows them through the windows. The rest of the children present with them cure their boredom by prattling about the upcoming trials, with some singing nursery rhymes as they point at their classmates.

"Si-nug-da-nan, which death do you like to go?" A group of friends behind them start to clap to the tune. "Magdalena, why do you watch me secretly before you take my soul? Teresa, judge me not for my grave sins, and don't you ever linger too long. Please, Nieves, break through my fatal fantasies and let me go."

Three girls from their row also join in.

"Si-nug-da-nan, which death do you like to go? Magdalena, keep your eyes. Teresa, run, don't hide. Nieves, save your life."

As Gunita hums and taps her desk with the rest of the class, Indak mentally blocks the noise and continues to examine the board.

The Akademya is a place of education open for everyone who wants to learn. All are required to complete their studies, strictly starting at the age of six and finishing at age sixteen. The subjects to be encountered during these years include anatomy, calisthenics, carpentry, cultural arts, martial arts, mathematics, history, literacy, and agriculture. After completion, they become eligible for work and able to earn money to support themselves or their families.

However, Indak has other things in mind than just enrolling in the Akademya for another three years.

The Sinugdanan annually offers thirteen year olds—or about to turn thirteen—a once in a lifetime opportunity to be out of the Akademya earlier and take on an even greater job than possible after completion. If she passes the annual trials, she may leave their village to become a balyan—the best service of their nation—with great pay and people praising her name.

"I'm so looking forward to it. Remember that my crush from the year above us passed and trained under Senyor Sagana Idianale, right?"

"Aren't they up for Abante Arena this year? I really want to see that one!"

"Dream on. You have to be balyan or some influential tribe to be able to see them, remember?"

"Papa thinks joining the Balyan Hagdan is dangerous," Gunita interrupts the group excitedly talking beside her. "And my older brother tells me about the hagdan a lot. They send children like us to die for a nonsense problem all the time."

The group falls silent.

They look at each other before erupting into a fit of giggles.

"Please." Indak lets out a small laugh at her cousin's interjections and leans back on her chair. "All your brother does is scare you, Tani. He's just a coward, and he's passing his fears on to you."

"Everyone should be afraid of it. Didn't you know that they make you solve problems that are not your fault? That's what my brother always told me," Gunita says as she ties her curls into twin braids. "Think of it as a math problem, Indi. Our maestro likes to give us problems like: If Agua angers ten wolves and needs to bring them two lambs each to appease them, how many lambs should you bring them? You have to think about it. Why does my maestro want me to solve what Agua angered? Why can't she do it herself since it's her fault they're angry? Why do we need to kill innocent lambs who had nothing to do with the wolves' anger? And where is this Agua? When you solve the problem and get it right, Agua doesn't show up and say thank you. If you get it wrong, you'd get closer to dropping your education. All because our maestro wants me to solve Agua's problem."

Indak looks at her cousin for a long time. "No, I don't understand whatever you're saying, but thank you for sharing."

Her cousin tilts her head, one eyebrow raised in confusion. "You're welcome? You really should listen to my tree, Indi. They tell me it's better that we don't ever dwell in the hagdan. Otherwise, we will meet our ancestors too soon."

Indak snorts, earning a questioning glance from her cousin.

Her mother once told her about her tribe's alliance tree, the Venancio. The tree faithfully abides by their ancestors' passed down philosophy of never drowning themselves in Urduja's business in this form.

Alliance trees form when a family, lineage, or community born with no third eye, unlike tribes, chooses to become followers of the anito a tribe serves. They form bonds with the tribe and exchange access to each other's economic ties and resources. This setup also made arranged marriages easier to discuss. Though tribe-tribe allegiance meant more power, the dynamic would gain unwanted internal competition when maintaining the contracts. With a tribe-tree allegiance, the terms of agreement become better settled. Additionally, a tribe can contract more than one tree without issue.

But Indak's tribe is dead, and so she wonders why the tree still sticks around. Though Indak genuinely finds Gunita Venancio's company better than being bothered by some children her age, or older, who had found fun in irritating other people during break, she's also the reason why her mother knows too much of her educational activities. If she ranks lower than her previous rank, her mother waits at the front door of their home, a dirty rag in one hand, ready to interrogate her.

For as long as Gunita exists, her mother has no need for the Akademya's counseling regarding her academic performance.

"That'd be nice, right? Meeting our ancestors." Indak nods. "While on the way, I'd bring them back from the dead too so you and your tree will have new people to nag at."

Before the other girl could reply, a crumpled paper lands in a barely audible thump on Gunita's desk.

Their attention shift to the object, the conversation between them halting as Indak turns to discover one Isog Magbabaya, all in his lanky state and unkempt hair, crossing his legs and smirking up at the cousins with arms folded against his chest. His chapped lips mouth off the word 'stupid' before his group of friends guffaw along with him.

Isog has been on her hair ever since that time in agriculture, back when they were seven, when she accidentally stepped on and ruined his favorite bakya. She found no time for apologies as Isog tackled her to the muddy ground with such speed, sparing her no second to breathe. Soon enough, they rolled like heaps of what seemed to be synonymous with pigs.

Isog never wore the sandals again.

No matter.

Indak thinks they're old enough to forget grudges from their childhood, and the time she spares for apologies is as much as his kindness towards her after that scuffle. And, of course, with a petty ride in the Akademya with Isog and his friends constantly bothering her, she learned to fight back and defend herself like any other threatened person. However, that ended with all of them in the Akademya's infirmaries more often than not, their guardians on their ears.

Indak snatches the paper from Gunita's fingers and hauls it back to Isog. The object grazes the boy's forehead and slides down the bridge of his nose before ending up back on his table. Witnessing this, his friends look between Indak and Isog as they push their chairs back a little farther away from him when they notice their friend claw his table and stand up.

The scene lifts the corners of her lips. She lingers to witness the boy's smirk disappear before turning back to her cousin whose wide eyes seem to remain glued behind them.

Indak Agui lets out a little laugh at her cousin's expression. "What? Feeling sorry for him?"

Without movement nor warning from anyone or anything around her, the boy flashes beside her and roughly snatches her by the collar of her shirt, lifting her off the chair and above the ground until her bakya could barely touch the hardwood floor. Isog's menacing eyes greet her line of vision, scorching barely concealed anger. When she tries to squirm her head out of his hold, he clutches her neck even tighter.

Indak chokes.

The eerie silence rings in her ears when she searches for anyone from her peripheral but detects no other sign of life. At the strange sight of emptied chairs and closed windows, her mind destroys any curiosity for the dark state of their room as her instincts take over, screaming for her to save herself. Tears form in her eyes as she tries with all her might to peel off the bony hands that wrap around her throat and kick the boy away from her.

No air.

Indak blinks.

She sits up, gasping for air in the next second. She grasps for her throat and feels the lingering grip of someone that wanted to end her life. Looking around, she still finds herself safe in her seat, the familiar noises from before Isog tried to choke her to death still present just as it was. She turns to the person beside her, and her cousin continues to blabber about the hagdan while throwing her paper birds out the window.

"What?" Indak mumbles to herself. She whirls around to where Isog sits and finds him still laughing with his friends.

Her forehead creases. "What?"

Nothing seems out of place, but when her classmates begin to chant the nursery rhymes, the eerie tune that took over the song slowly drives her nauseous. Groaning, she cradles her head in her arms as the singing continues to climb an octave each time they repeat the rhymes.

She wants to throw up.

"Si-nug-da-nan, which death do you like to go?" The same three girls join in the singing, repeating the same lines over and over. "Magdalena, keep your eyes. Teresa, run, don't hide. Nieves, save your life."

Indak falls back into a slump on her desk. "Stop! Stop!"

The singing stops.

Gunita hums and taps her desk. "Look at the board, Agui."

Indak snaps up from her seat when she hears the distorted voice of her cousin. She whips an open palm towards her, but stops it a hair away from the side of her neck.

With trembling hands, she presses her hand to her skin more, threatening to strike her carotid artery. "Who are you? What are you? What do you want?—"

A sharp pain shoots through her head. Her hand drops from the fake Gunita's neck and comes up to her scalp in a fist.

The unnatural clone of Gunita does not answer.

Instead, it elegantly folds another paper bird and hauls it to the direction of the board. Indak follows its route with her eyes but regrets it a minute later when the object passes through the glistening surface and transforms the board into a whirlpool of portrayals that piece together a horrifying massacre. Inside this imagery, the bird travels through bloody stone walls until it cleanly slices the head of a man desperately running for his life while tumbling over a sea of corpses.

Blood spurts out of the man's neck, his head rolling forward and toppling out of the whirlpool. The decapitated body spins like a top on the floor until it lands right by Indak Agui's feet. When she makes eye contact with the dead man's dilated eyes, all the blood drained out of her face. Simultaneously, its jaw falls open as well.

She lets out a piercing scream.

Indak holds her head and backs up into a wall. She chases her breath as her heart beats faster. "Is this a joke? Am I asleep?"

A knife zips past the side of her head, blowing a few strands of her hair. Indak releases a shaky breath when she hears the sharp object embed through the window frame, the thumping sound sealing all wandering thoughts as it penetrates through wood. With her small fingers, she pulls the knife out and keeps it close to her chest.

Despite her trembling stance, she still musters up the courage to face the girl across her. "Who are you? What have you done to me?"

Clone Gunita stands and pulls out a knife of hers as well. "Come, Agui. We are not yet finished."

"What are you talking about?"

The classroom easily falls away as if done with brittle carpentry.

Loud chants and screams barge through the windows and walls, shaking its foundation and demanding death. Masked people invade through the sliding doors and roofs, ripping apart the curtains and piles of scrolls and codex in bookshelves. They drag bodies of tribesmen around, lifeless or still screaming, mutilating them part by part in front of Indak Agui until all that's left are disfigured and unrecognizable lumps of meat of what these people used to be. The armed men spit on the bodies, cackling until their saliva mixes with the blood flooding the room and drowning her feet.

The killers lift their bolo knives into the air and put their palms together. "To god and glory!"

The girl watches, frozen in place and unable to come to her senses enough to look away.

The clone flashes in front of her and grabs her hand in a tight grip. "Run."

She lets the clone drag her away, resistance becoming futile as the strength from her legs gets sucked out by the previous scene.

Once they bypass the large forms of the murderers, the clone urges her to run through the narrow halls of an unfamiliar building and into another dark room. When she hears the heavy footsteps following the both of them, she pulls herself out of the clone's hold and races to the sliding door to hurriedly double knot the rope handles shut into a lock.

Indak Agui mumbles her mother and father's names in incomprehensible prayers of help once she hears the chants again, and she near wishes the real Gunita and her tree comes to save her life.

"Agui." The clone prowls towards her. "Do you want to live?"

"Back off." Indak recalls the knife in her hand and points it at the clone. "I don't exactly know what's going on, but I know this is your doing. Maybe you're an intruder, an assassin sent to eliminate Urduja."

The clone takes a hesitant step back to quietly observe her with arms crossed over its chest. "I don't understand. You don't seem to remember the Six Point Bloodbath. You're one of its survivors so you're meant to recognize some highlights of that massacre."

"What?" Indak grits her teeth. "I was two when that happened. Naturally, I don't recognize anything from that event. What are you even expecting from this?"

The clone looks her up and down. "You're apathetic. I don't know what to make of it."

Indak crawls forward and uses her remaining defiance to grab the clone by the legs. Despite her trembling body that continues to react to an almost realistic reimagining of the cold massacre, she still tries to ignore whatever chaos consumes the scenes behind the sliding door. And, after attaining little but poor balance, she finally manages to hold the clone by its shoulders and tip its head up by dragging a knife to its neck.

"Let me out."

The fake Gunita points the tip of its own knife to where Indak's heart rests. "To remove oneself from the colonizer's path, one must provide proof of loyalty to the nation."

"Can you, for once, talk like I'm not your age?" Indak crumples the collar of its shirt. "It makes me want to strangle you alive—"

The sliding door slams open.

She whips her head around to see the intruder, but she only registers another wave of bafflement when the figures that walk through transform into the familiar statures of her parents. Their clothes are soaked in blood and parts of their faces throb purple like prunes. Chada Venancio covers her mouth in dread when she points a bolo knife at her, and her father gazes at her with lifeless eyes and a mouth stretched into a thin line.

When she returns her gaze to the one in her hold, her cousin's clone quickly becomes a wailing little girl struggling in her hold. She cries for her father as her chubby fingers scratch her knuckles and her short legs attempt to kick her away.

From behind the little girl, the clone emerges, shaking its head. She holds up a mirror in front of Indak and watches the twelve-year-old's expression morph into complete and utter confusion.

Sharp nose. Long hair. Curled lashes. Cleft chin. Tribal tattoos on cheeks. Charmer of a face.

"What is the point this time?" Indak looks into the mirror to move her head side to side for confirmation. "Why does my reflection look like the paintings and stitches of the sixth pinuno now?"

"This is the night of the bloodbath and what specifically happened to you and your family during these moments. You may not remember, but we pieced together this much from your parents' recollection of the incident. I guess they never told the whole story to you," the clone explains. "Right now, you are the colonized soul of the sixth pinuno. The next step you take will determine your trial base."

"My trial base? For the Sinugdanan?" Indak glares at the clone. "Are you kidding me? This situation does not determine anything. It doesn't even make sense."

"From your point of view, no," the clone hums. "Since you are the murderer at the moment, you must seek what is important to do in this situation in order to save the people of this land and show where your loyalties lie. Behind you, your parents seek to assassinate you while you seek to assassinate your childhood self. Unless you seek to be eliminated by authorities such as me, you will seek the answer to this puzzle."

"Seek this, seek that." Indak shakes the knife out of her hand. When she realizes that it refuses to come off the little girl's throat, she lets out a sarcastic laugh. "I don't know what that puzzle means, but I do know that the only options you're giving me is death. If I don't choose one, you'll end me. Doesn't that imply that it does not matter what I choose for I die either way? This situation has no relation to anything whatsoever."

"If you prefer to perceive it that way, yes. This generation is undeniably narrow-minded, so I do not expect much conception." The clone throws the mirror on the ground and crushes it under its bakya. It grabs a piece of the broken glass and points it at her neck. "Nevertheless, I'll be here waiting for your answer."

Indak Agui meets the clone's eyes. "If I kill my parents—"

"Could you bear it?" The clone raises an eyebrow as it cuts her off.

She looks away. "Well, they're not real, right—"

"Could you bear it, Agui?"

"No," Indak mumbles. "No, I can't do it. You're right."

"This illusion does not end unless something ends." The clone paces the room. "Since all of us lack the guts to kill a little girl nor are we capable of going home, face our guardians, and bear the memory of slaying them in this imagined scenery, the choices are down to two: you let your parents kill you or...you kill yourself. Pull the knife off the little girl and stick it to yours. If you're the sixth pinuno at the moment, the right answer is obvious."

"You want me to go suicide route to conquer evil?" Indak chortles. "No, I can't bear to kill myself too, and I am not actually the sixth pinuno. You're the one that put me in that situation. I'm sorry, but this is confusing me way too much. What even is the moral of this story? That I should kill myself if I become something bloodthirsty? Thanks, but that's insane, and I guarantee that will never happen in my life, so I don't see the point of this."

The clone flashes in front of her, baring its teeth, and she jolts in surprise at the sudden threat and proximity. "You watch your next words, Agui. I am the master of your fate right now, and whatever you choose to say or do next will be recorded. Do not juggle your chances."

In that short moment, something dark and sinister clouds her mind and takes over her consciousness. Something constricting like vines wrapping around her chest and boiling hot water raining on her cold body makes her head heat up and her heart palpitate. Unknown voices within her thoughts invade from every direction, and she struggles to drive them out of her senses. They cry and plead for one thing as her mouth begins to water at the thought of letting it all die, die, die—

"To god and glory."

Indak lets go of the little girl.

"What—"

She pulls back and slashes the clone's neck with her knife.

Its skin tears apart, just like the headless man from the whirlpool, and its head slowly comes off its body with blood splattering across the walls and bamboo mats. Only then did she realize what she had done when it splashes on her face and clothes. She backs away, eyes widening and body quivering as the knife falls out of her hand. The clone's head—one strikingly similar to her cousin's—rolls to her feet, meeting her petrified gaze with eyes lacking visible irises. Despite decapitation, its jaw still manages to move to speak to her one last time in that same high-pitched and distorted voice.

"Agui, you dare court death!"

Indak screams.

She stomps on the head in an attempt to break its horrific voice and destroy its terrifying presence. Once it becomes nothing but fragments of blood and bones, the scene finally lifts in a whirlwind. As everything shifts back to reality, she falls to her knees and grips the front of her wrinkled shirt. Her heart continues to thump hard in her chest as sweat lines the sides of her head.

"Indi!" Gunita, the real one, pulls her by her elbows and supports her back to her chair. She massages small circles on her back. "It's okay, you're okay. It's not real, Indi. It's not real."

Once she recovered, Indak blinks a few times to take in the new figure that marched into their room. All pondering thoughts sway to a stop when Indak realizes she can't see them even with the awareness of their presence—like a fog obstructing a part of her brain. She tries to move her body, but it goes numb. She tries to lift a finger, but it remains paralyzed.

Not another one of these.

"You kids are too excited," the stranger says, monotonously. "Just by this room alone, most of you I have already observed as failures. Children back in our days were so much wiser and far more intelligent. Now, the lot of you are just snot-nosed birdbrains."

Let's hope it's not worse.

"The Sinugdanan is an annual exam for Year Eight students," the stranger continues. "Those who truly wish to join the balyan ranks of the Balyan Hagdan can give their best efforts to pass and serve Urduja. It is required for all of you to participate in such. Those who refuse to take the trials will undergo interrogation. If you so desperately want to open your third eye and reach the senyor rank, then pass the trials and fight your way up the hagdan."

The pressure surrounding Indak's head subsides. It tilts downwards enough so she could see her pad of parchments on top of her table as it flips open to a clean space. Narrowing her eyes, she adjusts her sight so she could see the ink staining the blank paper with bold characters.

"Thank you for the little show presented to me. I have successfully determined the base you would be trying in."

After those words, her consciousness returns to their classroom that now holds a serene atmosphere once the stranger disappeared. For the first time in Indak's years in the Akademya, the place is absent from the noise.

Gunita Venancio does not ask her any questions, Isog Magbabaya does not fight her for silly little things, and she forgets everything but the pad before her.

[dance-world]

Ervin Szelepcsenyi - Balet na Zamku w Szczecinie

[badeabianca]

BALLET WINTER CAMP 2023 by @casadebalet just finished successfully! ❄️🎉❤️ @balletworkshops • I can say that I started my New Year in the best and most productive way! ⭐️🩰 I am so grateful for everything, like every time I learned many new things and improved myself! I had a great time with my friends and worked with wonderful teachers! @sinergb, @olivierobifulco, @chesnaismargaux, Valentin Stoica! 💐💐💐 I also want to say that @ballet.rosa did an amazing job with the leotard and skirt, I love it so much!🌸 Congratulations @catalinacdb for the organization and I can’t wait for SUMMER BALLET CAMP!🌟🔝 • #ballerina #ballet #balerina #balet #dance #dancer #balletinfluencer #danceinfluencer #instadance #instaballet #instaballerina #balletpost #pointeshoes #balletphotoshoot #photoballet #pointeshoes #balletpointe #balletstudio #ballerinalife #ballerinashoes @ballet___lovers @love.pointe @worldwideballet @worldwidedance @bestballetinspo @balletclub_ @future_ballerinas_ @beauty._.ballerina @balett_lover @ballet__queens @quotes_and_ballet @balletbeautifulgirls @ballet.addiction @balletmoods @balletdanseur @ballet__queens @_._ballet.addiction_._ @sobailarinosrenato_ @sobailarinos_ @gaynorminden @gaynorgirls @gaynorminden_europe #gaynorgirls #gaynorminden #mygaynorminden • #aitadance #aitabucuresti #aitaambassador #balletshoes @aita.dance.stores @aitabucuresti @aitacluj • #casadebalet #biancabadea (at Bucharest, Romania) https://www.instagram.com/p/CnMqmVBI-Gy/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[safeashousespdf]

reference images under cut:

the balet dancer is inherently sexy but i would wear a sexy nurse costume dress with the joker one and show off the goods

propaganda: balet dancer would make me feel more physically comfortable, whereas my vision for the joker costume is more out of my comfort zone. balet dancer would require fewer pieces that i could (mostly) reuse. joker would probably be more gaggy.

[sanjaneskovic]

Composition

A Ballet Evening

Choreographer: Sanja Neskovic Persin

Composer: Drago Ivanusa

Dancers and Orchestra SNG Opera in balet Ljubljana

Premiere: 8.11.2018

[bryango1]

Tuan Denny JA Membawa Karya-karya Edgar Degas Kembali Hidup dengan AI

Dalam dunia seni, penyatuan antara tradisi dan teknologi sering kali menghasilkan pengalaman yang menakjubkan. Tidak ada yang lebih menggembirakan daripada melihat karya seni klasik yang dipulihkan dan dihidupkan kembali dengan sentuhan modern. Tidak heran bahwa pekerjaan luar biasa Denny ja dalam menghidupkan karya-karya seniman terkenal menjadi sorotan.

Dalam proyek terbarunya, Denny ja, seorang seniman dan teknolog Indonesia yang berbakat, telah menggunakan kecerdasan buatan (AI) untuk memberikan sentuhan baru pada karya-karya Edgar Degas, salah satu pelopor seni impresionisme. Melalui karya-karya ini, Denny JA berusaha menggabungkan keajaiban teknologi dengan keindahan seni klasik.

Edgar Degas, seorang seniman Prancis abad ke-19, terkenal dengan karyanya yang menyentuh tema tari, khususnya balet. Keahliannya dalam menangkap gerakan dan ekspresi unik dalam tarian telah memikat banyak pengagum seni sepanjang masa. Namun, karya-karya Degas itu sendiri sering kali tersembunyi di galeri-galeri terkenal di seluruh dunia, jauh dari jangkauan penggemar seni yang ingin mengalami keajaiban yang diciptakan oleh seniman itu.

Dalam proyek ambisiusnya, Denny JA menggunakan kemampuan AI untuk menghidupkan kembali beberapa lukisan terkenal Degas dan memberikan sentuhan modern yang menakjubkan. Dalam prosesnya, Denny JA merancang model AI yang mampu mempelajari gaya dan teknik Degas, serta melacak setiap detail di setiap karyanya. Ini memungkinkan AI untuk menghasilkan karya baru yang menggabungkan kecanggihan teknologi dengan keaslian gaya Degas.

Salah satu contoh karya yang luar biasa dari proyek ini adalah "The Star Dancer". Lukisan asli, yang terkenal dengan pose dinamis dan elegannya, telah lama menjadi sorotan di museum bergengsi di Prancis. Namun, dengan bantuan AI, Denny JA berhasil menghidupkan kembali karya ini dengan cara yang mengagumkan.

Prosesnya dimulai dengan pemindaian tingkat detail tinggi dari lukisan asli. AI kemudian menganalisis setiap goresan kuas, setiap nuansa warna, dan setiap detail kecil lainnya. Berbekal pemahaman yang mendalam tentang gaya Degas, AI kemudian menciptakan versi baru yang menggabungkan keaslian dengan interpretasi Denny JA yang unik.

Setelah setiap karya selesai, Denny JA bekerja sama dengan museum dan galeri untuk menghadirkan karya-karya ini dalam bentuk fisik yang memukau. Dalam pameran seni yang diadakan di Jakarta, pengunjung memiliki kesempatan untuk melihat dan merasakan keindahan yang diciptakan oleh perpaduan antara karya-karya Degas dan kecerdasan buatan.

Karya-karya ini telah menginspirasi banyak orang, baik seniman maupun penonton. Dengan menggunakan AI untuk menghidupkan kembali karya-karya seni klasik, Denny JA telah membuka jalan menuju kolaborasi yang menakjubkan antara tradisi dan teknologi. Bukan hanya lukisan Degas yang menjadi hidup kembali, tetapi juga cinta dan apresiasi kita terhadap seni yang kaya dan abadi.

Dengan berhasilnya proyek ini, Denny JA telah membuktikan bahwa AI bukanlah alat yang hanya digunakan untuk tujuan praktis, tetapi juga sebagai medium yang mampu menggabungkan keahlian manusia dengan kecerdasan mesin.

Cek Selengkapnya: Denny JA Membawa Karya-karya Edgar Degas Kembali Hidup dengan AI

[rekesefti]

Denny JA: Menggali Kembali Karya Maestro: Menghadirkan Lukisan Edgar Degas dengan AI

Denny JA adalah seorang pakar seni yang berdedikasi untuk menggali kembali karya-karya maestro terkenal dan menghadirkannya kembali dalam bentuk yang menarik, inovatif, dan menginspirasi. Salah satu karya seni yang menjadi fokusnya adalah lukisan terkenal dari seniman impresionis Prancis, Edgar Degas. Tetapi apa yang membuat upaya Denny JA ini begitu istimewa adalah penggunaan kecerdasan buatan (AI) untuk menciptakan interpretasi baru yang menakjubkan dari lukisan-lukisan Degas. Melalui kolaborasi dengan tim AI yang terampil, Denny ja telah berhasil menghasilkan serangkaian lukisan Degas yang mampu menghidupkan kembali keindahan dan daya tarik orisinalnya. Prosesnya dimulai dengan pemeriksaan mendalam terhadap setiap detail lukisan asli, termasuk teknik, palet warna, dan sentuhan artistik yang membuat karya-karya Degas begitu terkenal. Setelah analisis yang seksama, tim AI menggunakan algoritma canggih dan kemampuan belajar mesin untuk menerjemahkan informasi ini ke dalam format yang dapat diterapkan pada lukisan baru. Ini melibatkan pemahaman mendalam tentang komposisi visual, harmoni warna, dan keterampilan teknis yang diperlukan untuk menciptakan lukisan dengan presisi yang tinggi. Tahap berikutnya adalah penggunaan AI untuk merekonstruksi dan memperbarui tekstur, detail, dan nuansa dari gambar asli. Dalam hal ini, algoritma canggih digunakan untuk mereplikasi sapuan kuas dan sentuhan artistik yang unik dari Degas, menghasilkan hasil yang sangat mirip dengan karya aslinya. Ini menciptakan pengalaman visual yang menakjubkan, hampir seolah-olah Anda sedang melihat karya Degas yang sebenarnya. Dalam proses kreatif ini, Denny ja juga bekerja sama dengan ahli sejarah seni dan kurator untuk memastikan bahwa reproduksi lukisan ini setia pada karya asli Degas. Pendekatan ini penting untuk mempertahankan integritas seni dan menghormati warisan seniman besar. Salah satu lukisan karya Denny JA yang paling terkenal adalah interpretasi baru dari "The Star" karya Degas. Dalam lukisan asli, Degas menggambarkan seorang penari balet dengan pose yang anggun dan ekspresi yang penuh semangat. Dengan menggunakan AI, Denny JA berhasil menghidupkan kembali karya tersebut dengan detail yang luar biasa. Sentuhan kuas yang halus dan perpaduan warna yang menakjubkan menciptakan pengalaman visual yang memukau bagi para penonton. Selain keindahan visual, reproduksi lukisan Degas tersebut juga memungkinkan penonton untuk memahami lebih dalam makna di balik karya Degas. AI membantu mengungkapkan tingkat detail yang tak terlihat sebelumnya, memperlihatkan unsur-unsur kecil yang mengungkapkan kehidupan para penari balet dan tantangan yang mereka hadapi di dunia seni. Karya-karya Denny JA yang lain juga mencakup interpretasi baru dari "The Dance Class", "Woman at Her Toilette", dan "The Little Dancer". Melalui penggunaan AI, Denny JA berhasil menghadirkan karya-karya maestro ini dalam cara yang belum pernah terjadi sebelumnya. Lukisan-lukisan ini menggabungkan keindahan dan kecerdasan buatan dalam karya seni yang menginspirasi dan memikat. Inovasi Denny JA dalam menggali kembali karya-karya maestro seperti Edgar Degas dengan menggunakan AI telah menciptakan gelombang kekaguman dan kekaguman di dunia seni. Upaya ini membantu kita melihat karya-karya yang terkenal dalam cahaya yang baru, mengungkapkan kedalaman dan keindahan yang belum pernah terlihat sebelumnya.

Cek Selengkapnya: Denny JA :Menggali Kembali Karya Maestro: Menghadirkan Lukisan Edgar Degas dengan AI

[ooreopieysz]

Denny JA Menghadirkan Keajaiban Melalui Melukis Ulang Lukisan Maestro Edgar Degas

Dalam dunia seni, melukis ulang merupakan suatu cara unik untuk memberikan penghormatan kepada karya-karya maestro terkenal. Salah satu seniman Indonesia yang telah menghadirkan keajaiban melalui melukis ulang lukisan maestro Edgar Degas adalah Denny JA. Dalam artikel ini, kita akan menjelajahi perjalanan Denny JA dalam menghadirkan keindahan dan keajaiban melalui reproduksi lukisan-lukisan Degas yang ikonik. Denny ja, yang dikenal sebagai seniman multitalenta, telah menunjukkan bakatnya dalam berbagai bidang seni, termasuk melukis, menulis, dan berbicara di depan publik. Namun, salah satu pencapaian terbesarnya adalah melalui melukis ulang karya-karya maestro terkenal, seperti Edgar Degas. Edgar Degas adalah seorang pelukis asal Prancis yang dikenal karena lukisannya yang indah tentang tari balet. Melalui penggunaan teknik impresionisnya yang khas, Degas mampu menangkap gerakan dan emosi para penari dengan sangat indah. Karyanya yang paling terkenal adalah lukisan-lukisan balet yang menampilkan keanggunan dan keindahan gerakan tubuh. Denny ja memiliki kekaguman yang mendalam terhadap karya-karya Degas, dan dia percaya bahwa melukis ulang lukisan-lukisan tersebut adalah cara yang baik untuk memberikan penghormatan kepada maestro tersebut. Denny JA menganggap setiap lukisan reproduksi sebagai sebuah proses untuk menghargai karya asli, sambil menghadirkan keindahan dan inspirasi bagi penikmat seni. Proses melukis ulang lukisan Degas merupakan sebuah tantangan yang membutuhkan ketelitian dan perhatian terhadap detail. Denny JA mempelajari metode dan teknik Degas dengan seksama, memahami setiap sapuan kuas dan sentuhan warna yang diperlukan untuk menciptakan reproduksi yang autentik. Dia juga melakukan riset mendalam tentang latar belakang setiap lukisan Degas, membaca tentang kisah di balik karya-karya tersebut. Ketika melukis ulang lukisan-lukisan Degas, Denny JA tidak hanya berusaha untuk meniru secara sempurna, tetapi juga mengungkapkan interpretasinya sendiri tentang karya tersebut. Dia melihat setiap lukisan sebagai sebuah cerita yang bisa diinterpretasikan oleh setiap individu dengan cara yang berbeda. Melalui reproduksi lukisan, Denny JA mampu menghadirkan sentuhan pribadinya dan memberikan nuansa baru yang memperkaya pengalaman seni. Salah satu lukisan Degas yang berhasil dilukis ulang oleh Denny JA adalah "The Star". Lukisan ini menggambarkan seorang penari balet yang sedang berlatih di studio. Degas menggunakan teknik impresionisnya untuk menangkap gerakan dan keanggunan penari. Denny JA dengan cermat melukis ulang setiap detail dalam lukisan ini, menciptakan suasana yang sama dengan karya aslinya. Namun, dia juga menambahkan sentuhan pribadinya, dengan memberikan penekanan pada ekspresi wajah penari yang penuh semangat dan tekad. Selain "The Star", Denny JA juga berhasil melukis ulang beberapa lukisan balet lainnya, seperti "The Dance Class" dan "The Little Fourteen-Year-Old Dancer". Melalui reproduksi-reproduksi ini, Denny JA berhasil menghadirkan keajaiban Degas dalam seni lukis Indonesia. Dia membuktikan bahwa melukis ulang bisa menjadi bentuk penghormatan yang kuat terhadap karya maestro, sambil memberikan sentuhan unik dari seniman yang baru. Karya-karya Denny JA yang dihasilkan melalui melukis ulang lukisan Degas telah menuai apresiasi yang luar biasa. Banyak penggemar seni yang terpesona dengan reproduksi lukisan tersebut, karena keaslian dan keindahannya.Cek Selengkapnya: Denny JA Menghadirkan Keajaiban Melalui Melukis Ulang Lukisan Maestro Edgar Degas