Skater Chick

I am not what you would call a Skater (anymore than you would call me a Sailor). I simply Skate. In my day, I have been a fairly decent ice skater and rollerblader, although now it has been quite some time since I laced on the boots. There is something about ice skating that I adore, and I chalk it up to the CU Rec center, back when I was a freshman in college. I used to go there and skate in the afternoons...no one else was ever there, the lights were off and the rink was lit only by the soft diluted light coming in through the floor to ceiling windows that looked out to the Flatirons on one side, and north Boulder on the other. In the evenings, the place was a zoo, crowded, brightly lit and lots of obnoxious frat boys trying to trip each other up.

I had taken lessons as a child and we used to skate on our frozen swimming pool when I was in junior high school. Shortly after I began my freshman year, I decided I wanted to take it up again, maybe to fill some of the loneliness I felt at being at such a huge school, and so I signed up for lessons. While I made fairly steady progress and I was always pretty solid on my feet, I was not destined to be the next Tonya Harding (at least as it relates to being a skater). I actually broke my wrist trying to do a waltz jump right before finals....I got my first C but have always chalked it up to the pain killers I was on, and the fact that all of my essays had to be written with my left hand. But I picked it up again after winter break.

Anyway, a few years back, I heard a Supertramp song...you know the album, the one with "when I was young, I used to think that life was so mystical, lyrical..." and the other one "take a look at my girlfriend, she's the only one I got. Breakfast in America is the name of the album and even now I can still see the face of the waitress a la statue of liberty, in front of the World Trade Center, which were, at the time the album came out, still fairly new buildings!! It looked like you were looking out of a plane...hmmm how ironic...Well, anyway, the guys in the skating rink office loved that cassette, and played it all the time, so whenever I hear one of those songs...it just takes me back......and here is what I wrote while listening to the album, 20 years later, thinking about those wonderful hours I passed (never wasted time) alone on the cold dark ice rink.

THE SKATER
The solitary skater glided to the center of the frozen lake.
The surrounding trees creaked with the weight of heavy snow,
And frosty air blew down from the mountains.
Head thrown back, she looked up and out beyond the glittering stars.
Without moving, lost in the remembrance of a faded memory,
She whispered two words to the constellations.
In her mind, she heard the echo of a violin
And the gentle sounds parted the mist behind her eyes.
With an urgency, she spread her arms and began to move.
Gaining speed and strength, she danced an intricate ballet on steel,
While the wind whipped tears from her eyes.
As the dark, glassy surface slid away soundlessly,
She wove into it a delicate pattern of lace.
She no longer saw the ice.
She no longer felt the cold.
She saw only a blur of stars,
and felt only the heavy beating of her own heart.
Weightlessly, she flew.
With the joy of liberation, she sped across the lake.
She spun for an eternity, suspended on one strong leg.
Faster, faster, faster - and then
Motionless - arms thrown out embracing the world.
Collecting her energies, the skater circled the ice once more,
Moving slower,
Until the only movement was the gentle wind across her cheek.
Satisfied and complete again,
She looked up to the stars and repeated,
"For me."


If you want to see it in Italian, here ya go - I translated it as an exercise in my Italian class - after I turned this in, my teacher called me La Poetessa....he was hot....

La Pattinatrice
La pattinatrice da ghiaccio solitaria scivolava al centro del lago gelato. Gli alberi intorno gemivano, caricavano con la neve pesante, e l'aria fredda tirava in basso dalla montagna. La testa buttava di dietro, lei alzava lo sguardo, e passata le stelle sprazze di luci. Senza movimente, perduta nella memoria spiadiva, lei sussarrava due parole alle constellazioni. Nella sua mente, sentiva l'eco del violino, e i suoni dolci separavano la bruma dietra i suoi occhi. Con un'urgenza, spangeva le braccia e cominciava a muovere. Guadagnando la velocità e la potenza, lei danzava un balletto difficile sulla pantofole d'acciaio, mentre il vento frustava le lacrime dai suoi occhi. La superficie, nera e cristallina, scorreva assente muta e lei tesseva un disegno delicato di latrina. Di più, lei non vedeva il ghiaccio. Di più, lei non sentiva la sera fredda. Lei vedeva solamente un disonore delle stelle, e sentiva solamente il battito vivo del suo cuore proprio. Agravitazionemente, lei volava. Con la gioia della liberazione, lei affrettava dirimpetto il lago. Girando per un'eternita, sospendeva sul una gamba dura. Acceleri, piu e piu rapido, come il balenio, e tutto ad un tratto, immobile, le braccia gettavano, abbracciando il mondo. Collezionando le sue energi, la pattinatrice circondava il ghiaccio ancora una volta, piu adagio, fin quando il solo movimento era il vento dolce atraverso sulla sua guancia. Soddisfata e completa di nuovo, lei alzava la testa verso le stelle ancora, e ripeteva, "per me."