My Frozen Stage


Queeny Park Ice Arena
United States

She radiates like Christmas. Anyone near her who parts their lips instantly collects a mouthful of crisp, fresh air, the embodiment of toothpaste. No matter what the season, a visit to her is a ticket to board the Polar Express; she is the gateway to a perpetual Christmas. Tradition and sentimentality is a common theme in her amongst family. Amid challengers, the melody she sings is for champions, for splendor and prominence. A golden stripe of glory signifies every victorious triumph and crushes every humiliating defeat, wrapping itself around mighty fortress walls like the ribbon on a monumental gift-wrapped snow globe. She amplifies and transforms herself until she becomes the whole world. The axis life spins on is no longer held to the crumbling earth by a putrid foot, but to the promising air with a gleaming blade. After a while the surface becomes embellished with faded mirrors that follow movement like a shadow. Subzero reflections develop into something more than physical. A relationship with the rink is an unforeseen bond with oneself. Each skate’s swipe at her surface leaves a mark that may be forgiven and erased. She is addicted to new beginnings, renovating herself into a sketchpad for the feet with newly flipped pages every hour. Her canvas expresses dance relentlessly.  A glistening field of perfect ice, she has always been made for frolicking along the blade. Carefree self-enjoyment is welcomed to a dance studio frozen in time for those who crave an escape or a threshold to the past. She is a selfless creature. The accomplishments made on her crystal surface often wipe away her beauty and leave her with scars that she must consistently forget in order to survive.



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