Playing Footsy

Nothing says femme fatale quite like a pair of black thigh high boots. Especially if they are by the king of boots himself, his  Royal Highness the Crown Prince of Perfect Footwear Stuart Weitzman. I’ll never forget the time I first laid eyes on his pair of Tuscon Suede and Neoprene leg-slippers.  They fit my lanky 14 year old leg like a glove and the moment I did a little twirl in the mirror (ordinary conduct for me when trying on clothes) I was in love. It’s been four years since that coup de foudre and I must confess, I’m still enamored by the shoe. However my taste has matured. Now, instead of wanting comfort I want style. I want something with more oompf.

A few days ago when I googled black thigh high boots  to search my childhood crush, I stumbled upon Tuscon’s sister: sexy, silth Highland. With her elegant  3.25 inch heel, body made entirely of suede, and her darling string tie behind the knee, she certainly catches the eye. Think Julia Roberts from Pretty Woman but with more class. In other words, Highland is made for these three leggy beauties in real life: http://www.modelinia.com/__wordpress__/wp-content/uploads/2013/11/thigh-high-boots.gif

The only downside is that they are very pricey. Jeffrey Campbell makes a cheaper one but it’s in grey (not my favorite for boots) http://www.nastygal.com/shoes-boots/jeffrey-campbell-kitsap-thigh-high-boot?utm_source=commission_junction&utm_medium=affiliate&utm_campaign=affiliate&cj_linkd=11085047&cj_webid=2687457&cj_sid=2b3ae9179d9d4a13853feed1d3aff11c&cj_affid=2205077&cj_affname=Polyvore&utm_content=2205077

And Opening Ceremony’s version has a beautiful design and an interesting rusty color (they call it a Wine) but I think if you’re going to pay a lot for something, you want to be able to wear them with everything. Black goes with everything, wine/gray.. not as much. Please comment back if you find any decent black versions of these shoes. I’d love to explore other options though, as always, these Highlanders have me under their spell. Mr. Weitzman has done it again!

According to the reviews these babies run a little large so if you’re a 10 like me, opt for 9.5 or if you have pretty, little fit, go from 6.5 to a 6 and so on… You get the idea ;)

Ma Chambre

J’ai eu quelques demandes récentes d’écrire de mon apartment à Paris. Maintenant, je comprends ce que ces gens  envisagent; je peux imaginer l’attrait que mon humble demeure doit évoquer . Cependant, je dois admettre que ce n’est pas aussi romantique ou luxe que vous pouvez attendre d’un appartement parisien “typique” de médias. En fait, c’est le contraire de luxe : c’est une petite salle de 12 mètres (en France, nous en appelons une ” chambre de bonne “) quiqui est située dans le centre de Paris et regarde droit dans le cadre de la Tour Eiffel. Fantaisie ce n’est pas , mais mystérieuse et magique, il est certainement.
C’est un voyage passionnant de monter à ma forteresse. Sept vols sur une hélice métallique en spirale tres haut. Chaque étage est numéroté pour vous rappeler combien vous avez encore à monter , ou plutôt combien d’ étapes de 120 étapes restent à supporter. Cela peut ne pas sembler trop nombreux pour ceux d’entre vous qui frappez heures sur le maître d’escalier . Mais quand vous êtes pressé et vous arrivez à rez de chaussée pour se rendre compte que vous avez oublié quelque chose dont vous avez besoin, les escaliers peuvent paraître comme le Mont Everest . C’est incroyable de voir comment un de l’état d’esprit peut déterminer leur motivation physique.
Au contraire , parfois j’aime mes escaliers. Ils sont une réussite architecturale de toutes sortes. Selon mon propriétaire , ils ont été construits dans les années 1800 pour modéliser le réseau de fer de la Tour Eiffel. Les architectes efforts ont été un succès et la vue est stimulant de contempler sur . Le corps de fer gracieuse des bobines d’ escalier en spirale jusqu’à une centaine de pieds (30 mètres ) . Il est enfermé par des murs sans fin de verre obscurci . Ce type de verre permet à la lumière du jour verser dans le bâtiment à la tombée de la nuit et éclabousser les escaliers ses couleurs corail chaudes du coucher du soleil . Cependant, le verre obscurcit l’intérieur du bâtiment . De cette façon, le monde extérieur (les appartements voisins ) ne peut pas voir sa performance quotidienne de la lumière crepusular . Et c’est peut-être ce qui le rend d’autant plus mystérieux. Seulement, je peux voir la beauté et le mystère de mes escaliers . Ils sont faits pour des rêveurs comme moi qui vivent plutôt la beauté cachée plutôt que recherchent les plaisirs évidents de la vie . ( Dans ce cas , les ascenseurs . ) Cependant, ils ne savent pas ce qu’ils manquent , et peut-être que c’est pour le mieux. Si tout le monde pouvait reconnaître le silence magique de la lumière du matin qui descend le long de mes escaliers d’accueillir un nouveau jour , tout le monde voudrait vivre dans une chambre de bonne , peu importe comment déconnecté de la réalité de la rue , il peut être .
C’est cette déconnexion que j’aime tellement . J’ouvre les fenêtres et vois les sommets des bâtiments . Les gens deviennent de petites fourmis couraient le long des trottoirs . Je pousse des ma tête à ma droite et vois de l’autre côté de la Seine avec tout son prestige de Champs Elysée et La Grand Palais . De l’autre côté , la banlieue résidentielle de Paris s’étendent devant moi et vous pouvez voir où le septième arrondissement se transforme en la quinzième . La nuit , les boîtes jaunes de lumière s’accumulent sur la façade des bâtiments . En leur sein, les gens ont leurs propres petits mondes : ils obtiennent leurs enfants prêts pour le lit , ils finissent leur travail de papier pour le lendemain , ils nettoient les restes de leur dîner . Ils effectuent des tâches quotidiennes tout d’une manière qui peut semble banal et privé pour eux, mais est ironiquement présenté aux immeubles d’habitation parallèles . Appelez cet oubli , mais je l’ai lu que la confiance . C’est une communauté de personnes anonymes qui conservent leur allure pendant la journée, mais sont attachant ouvert dans leurs appartements . Il est le confort de déconnexion on se sent quand à la maison . Une déconnexion qui libère votre franchise. Moi aussi, je laisse mon rideau ouvert , mais je dois dire que c’est de voir la silhouette d’or de la Tour Eiffel contre le ciel de nuit plutôt que de montrer aux gens comment je ramone ma chambre ou me brosser les dents . Néanmoins , c’est le fait que je ne me dérange pas que confirme mon point .
Enfin , je vais expliquer comment confortable foutu ma chambre est . Je vais commencer par ma literie . J’ai cette énorme bouffée blanc que je m’enfonce dans tous les soirs . En plus de cela est ce doux que couverture souple , puis une touche de laine que les pourboires mon lit hors d’échelle confortable et en-me-jamais-a-l’envie-a-me-reveillé territoire de confort (c’est pour cela que j’ai ecrit mon dernière post d’un ” Lazy Sunday ” ) . Je dors aussi avec les grands rideaux sur ma fenêtre qui peuvent me donner l’illusion de sa nuit , même dans le milieu de la journée . Dangereux je vous dis … ;) Et puis j’ai ce tapis moelleux que j’ai eu comme une touche de finition . Il garde mon sentiment chaud chaud en hiver et sert de tapis de Pilates , une station de travail , et un endroit où je blogue ( ahem m’arrive d’être assis maintenant) . Il est très moelleux . Comme pour les décorations , je suis un amoureux de ventilateurs , donc je les collectionne les marchés aux puces . Je voulais faire quelque chose d’original , peu coûteux et facile à déplacer lorsqu’il mai vient autour . Ces ventilateurs sont la solution parfaite . Je suis aussi un grand amoureux du Japon et ils félicite les autres accents japonais dans ma chambre comme l’origami , fleur imprimée nappe , et un livre géant sur ​​le Japon de mon copain . Pour les meubles , je voulais garder le thème original alors je suis allé avec une vanité cru bigorneau et d’un tabouret jaune d’accompagnement . Les couleurs fonctionnent étonnamment bien ensemble , de façon dynamique inattendue .
Les photos et liens suivent ce post dans le version anglais qui inclut un lien à une vidéo qui a été faite par un étudiant de l’AUP l’an dernier qui avait fait ma chambre ! Il montre brièvement ma chambre et aussi le couloir et la vue. Une telle coïncidence !

Lazy Sunday Nights

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As I sit here and pack up for my first day back at school after break, I’m looking for songs that get me in motion. Sundays can feel like a trap for motivation because it’s the one day where you can stay in bed and say peace out to the world. Between castings, dance rehearsals, school, and rendez-vous, Sundays can seem a gift from the heavens. Here are some tunes that made my already irresistibly lazy Sunday that much sweeter :) Hope you like them. L-A-to-Z

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La Cigale Recamier – English Version with photos!

Vanilla soufflé with a red fruit coulis!

Imagine your perfect dish. A dish that is complex and paradoxical. Something that is both light and rich at the same time. A dish that makes you satisfied without weighing you down. A flat both crispy and soft. Exciting but also heartwarming. It can be sweet or savory. It is a normal temperature of the outside , but with vapors of heat inside. What food could have so many possibilities, you ask? The answer is soufflé and The Cigale Recamier serves the best soufflé in town.

I discovered this place over the weekend with a friend who always dine here when she comes to Paris . Her friend Fleur joined us enthusiastically, declaring that the restaurant is very well known and it can be difficult to get a reservation. We were lucky : the dining room was not too crowded so the service was impeccable – but I ‘m sure it would have been as satisfying during rush hour.

As an avid fan of seafood, I started my meal with day’s special: the lobster soufflé. It had a discrete shellfish taste that was complemented by herbal overtones of rosemary and thyme. This was perfect in my eyes because seafood should always be simple and uncomplicated with accompanying flavors (I like herbs best). In addition, it was a perfect accompaniment to my delectable dessert soufflé : a pot of heavenly vanilla laced with red fruit coulis …

My friend Claire ordered the cheese soufflé, a deliciously rich take on the classic, a rendition that another restaurant could not dream of doing as well as La Cigale. Then she had the chocolate soufflé for dessert which was as strong and coacoa-y as a chocolate bar but obviously more exciting in its shape. (Why eat chocolate in a cold, hard rectangular form when you can have it in a warm, fluffy soufflé bowl ?)

And finally our friend Fleur had blown truffle soufflé followed by a violet licorice one for dessert. Both were divine, as was expected at this point! The truffle flavor was fresh and powerful, you could smell it from across the room! And her sweet violet dish was compiled of different flavors that worked together in perfect harmony to create a taste that was fragrant and elevated. A souflée for distinguished tastebuds to be sure!

In breif, I highly recommend this restaurant. This is a great place to bring your family or friends if they want a classic – and delicious – experience of French food. And do not be concerned with their chic dish of choice. This is an unpretentious restaurant that welcomes people of all ages and all tastes. After all, with such a variety of different flavors to choose from, each of the same excellent caliber, you are sure to find your soufflé of choice. I would not be surprised if soufflée becomes your dish of choice for that matter!

Sincerely,

Quincy

Fleur's violet-licorice souflée

Fleur’s violet-licorice souflée

My lobster soufflé/ Soufflé dHomard

My lobster soufflé/ Soufflé dHomard

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La Cigale Récamier- Version Français (English to follow)

La Cigale Récamier

Imaginez votre plat parfait. Un plat qui est complexe et paradoxal. Quelque chose qui est à la fois léger et riche en même temps. Un plat qui vous rend satisfait sans vous alourdir. Un plat à la fois croustillant et moelleux. Passionnant mais aussi réconfortant. Il peut être sucré ou salé. Il est une température normale de l’extérieur, mais avec des vapeurs de chaleur à l’intérieur. Quel plat pourrait avoir autant de possibilités, vous vous demandez? La réponse est le soufflé. Le Cigale Récamier sert le meilleur soufflé à Paris.

J’ai découvert cet endroit pendant du week-end par une amie qui dîne toujours ici quand elle vient à Paris. Son amie nous a rejoint avec enthousiasme, déclarant que le restaurant est très bien connu et qu’il peut être difficile d’obtenir une réservation. Nous avons été chanceuses: la salle à manger n’était pas trop bondée et donc le service était impeccable – mais je suis sûre que cela aurait été aussi satisfaisant aux heures de pointe. Nous avons mangé à leur heure d’ouverture du midi.
Etant amatrice de fruits de mer, j’ai commencé mon repas avec le soufflé au homard. Il avait un goût de poisson discret qui a été complétée par des harmoniques à base de plantes. C’est ainsi que les fruits de mer devraient toujours être, simples et sans complication avec les saveurs les accompagnant. En outre, c’était un mariage parfait avec mon dessert soufflé: un pot de vanille céleste lacé avec un coulis de fruits rouges…

Mon amie Claire a commandé le soufflé au fromage, un classique que n’importe quel autre restaurant ne pouvait rêver de faire comme la Cigale. Ensuite, elle a eu le soufflé chocolat comme dessert. Il était riche et délectable comme une barre de chocolat noir mais évidemment plus excitant dans sa forme: pourquoi manger du chocolat dans une barre quand vous pourrez déguster le chocolat d’un chaleureux, duveteux bol de soufflé?!
Et enfin notre amie Fleur eu le soufflé aux truffes suivi d’un soufflé de réglisse violette pour le dessert. Les deux étaient, comme prévu, divins! La saveur aux truffes était fraîche et puissante, vous pourrez la sentir à travers la salle! Et son dessert soufflé sucré compilé de différentes saveurs qui ont travaillé ensemble en parfaite harmonie pour créer un goût qui était doux, parfumé et mature.

Comme si ma description détaillée de la Cigale Récamier n’était pas assez parlante…, je recommande vivement ce restaurant. C’est un excellent endroit pour amener votre famille ou à vos amis s’ils veulent une classique – et délicieuse – impression de Paris. Et ne soyez pas concerné par leur chic plat de choix. C’est un restaurant sans prétention qui accueille des gens de tous les âges et tous les goûts. Après tout, avec une telle variété de soufflés à choisir, chacun de la même excellente qualité, vous êtes sûr de trouver votre soufflé de choix. Je ne serais pas surprise s’il devenait votre plat de choix….

Introducing La Française

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I have decided to start writing posts in French as well as English. I’m living in Paris, I’m learning French by the second, and chronicling la belle via à Paris so why write in French? Let me know what you guys think of this idea, whether or not you find it confusing, too much, or even genius! Okay I got a little carried away on that last category, but I’m pretty excited about this new plan :) looking forward to hearing your feedback via my ask button or my email if you know me personally. Kisses!

Next up is a post on a delicious soufflé restaurant and naturally it will be translated into French because what is more French than soufflé? Rhetorical question because I’m sure you could come up with a few other things ;)

Bon, j’ai juste introduire en anglais que j’ai eu un épiphanie: je parle français (assez bien pour me comprendre selon mes amis françaises), je vive à Paris, et je suis déterminer de m’intégrer plus dans ce culture dont j’aime. C’est pour cela que mon post prochaine (il s’agit de la soufflée!) sera encrit dans les deux langues, également. Donc j’espère que ce changent va accueillir un public plus diverse et culturel. Profitez-biens mes lecteurs françaises! J’apprécie vos aperçus et suggestions en avance. Bisous!

Sincerely yours/Bien à vous,
Quincy

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Twinkling night

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The Eiffel Tower twinkles a cascade of light through my window. It is a clear night. There is not a cloud in the sky and it seems just as well: the vast emptiness of the night paves the way for a magnificent, golden frame. Behold! Before me stands La Tour Eiffel in all her glory. Her gleaming body is an explosion of light. As I lie in bed, suppressed by the dark silence of my room, I discover her true beauty. A beauty that has been admired for over a century, and dreamt of by voyaging idealists in beds such as mine far, far away. How fortunate am I to view her gleaming wonder with such tantalizing proximity. A nightlight for the gods; a dream for me.

Tonight marks the end of one week in Paris, and the first night in my 12 m^2 apartment, or as the French call it, my chambre de bonne. Indeed it is a very special night. I am away from my real home and I nowhave one officially to call my own. Sure, I am renting it, and yes it is temporary, but from the quirky wall decorations to the heaps of clothing not fully unpacked, it is unmistakably mine.

After one week, I have officially settled into the spirit of this city and have gained an attachment as cavernous as the bottom of the Seine. With all the love I pour into Paris, she fills me with even more happiness.I feel this every time I set my feet onto the side walk and settle into the rhythm of those who pass me by. My fellow citizens. Though we are all strangers in this city, and cherish the freedom this ubiquitous anonymity brings us, we are united by a common thread. A love of a home that is smoky, mysterious, jaded and yet overflowing with novelties that multiply each day someone discovers himself in its bounds. For Paris is a reflection. Just that the Eiffel Tower mirrors herself onto the Seine’s murky abyss, one sees himself with more candor when confronted with Paris’s authentic spirit. Paris unveils all truths. She opens your eyes to her often brazen impartial ways, (you can never escape the real world, not even in the “city of lights and love”!) yet fills you with hope and belonging. In this way, she changes you. Paris is much more than a beautiful city. Paris is a place where dreams are confronted with reality; but nevertheless, it is where your hope is restored and replenished by the an inexplicable feeling. A feeling that can be recounted and relayed through moments rather than rational. For instance, as I lie here awake beneath the glowing blanket of light, the Eiffel Tower envelopes me with Paris’s essence. She is like a guardian whose beaming shape extends far beyond the mode of a nigthtlight. With her towering stature holding my gaze as I drift to sleep, I feel a sense of security knowing that she is there.It is this sense of sureness and belonging that I find everywhere in Paris, and a sense of rightness that is amplified by every one of her shining lights.

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Last Days

Chère Toi,
What a memorable week it has been. I spent my last seven days between New York City and home, traveling via the train and enjoying every second of my time. Part of me wishes I hadn’t had such eventful last days because time simply flew by. Nevertheless, I had the most excellent week that I will share with you below.
The best part of this excursion was seeing my boyfriend of 8 months for the first time since June! Here is a quick briefer on our relationship, no mushy details just the facts! Ludwig and I met at our boarding school last December when he invited me to dinner. I remember feeling both surprised and flattered by his invitation, for it was an unprecedented gesture in the environment of my busy, unromantic private school. Fortunately, that dinner was the beginning of subsequent evenings, and later, the best months of my life. The moment we sat down across from each other, we felt the spark, both metaphysical and physical, our intellect ran freely and our spirits had found their better half. Okay, so I’m getting a little mushy here… I cannot help but get lovey-dovey when I talk about love itself. Now, onto our week together!
One of the first things we did in New York was devour Mexican-Sushi. We stumbled upon a stark, black, box-shaped restaurant named “Taka Taka.” As if the intriguing mélange of culture in its cuisine was not enough to convince us, we were pulled in by the smells wafting on the surrounding blocks almost immediately. This place was both delicious and fun. It was equipped with revolving plates of varying colors, each with a designated price, and tantalized our appetites as they sped past our table. It became a game of “Find-The-Number-Read-The-Description-And-REACH!” Each number was unique in its hierarchy of flavor pairing, the blues plates being the most simple and the red ones (our favorites) sporting the most adventurous flavors. My favorite was the Caniinflas which was a tempura soft shell crab roll with black sesame seed, chives and chipotle mayonnaise… To die for.
Later that night we went out for a beer at the Bier Garten in Meatpacking next door to the Standard. For my German companion, it was both a comforting and disheartening experience. He was exciting to indulge in a German beer, knowing that such delicacies are rather rare in the outskirts of New York City (ahem, the town of our boarding school). At the same time, he was disappointed by the falsities of the system which led to a debasement of German culture: the servers didn’t know a word of German, wore kitchy dirndl printed T-Shirts, and served the beer as if they were serving cow manure.

The Bier Garten

The Bier Garten

After a blunt reality check that we were no longer in Germany, we were ready to sit down to one of our favorite, most dependable dining spots: The Standard Grill. Their food always pleases, especially their bacon-cheddar hamburger that is adorned with a quintessential pickle and a bouquet of crisp fries. As always, we had a wonderful meal.

Bacon Cheddar Burger

The following days were filled with more delicious food and leisurely activities. We had a lengthy breakfast at La Grainne Café in Chelsea on Friday and Bosie Tea Parlor in West Village on Saturday. Both were divine. At La Grainne, I ordered savory crepes filled with smoked salmon, ratatouille and basil cream. Ludwig ordered a delicious serving of Orange Blossom French toast, sprinkled with almonds. At Bosie, I drank a black tea that was laden with strong rosemary top notes and finished with a warm, indulgent caramel after-taste. I must admit, though I knew what I was ordering, I underestimated the amount of rosemary taste and how it would not agree with my morning circadian rhythms. In other words, it was a bit too early for such a savory tea.
For my food portion, I ordered the oatmeal to balance the flavors. My plan worked a little to well. The rich, creamy, sweetness of my oatmeal dominated the otherwise unrelenting aftertaste of my tea. It was too sweet, even for my insatiable sweet tooth, and I gladly left a generous dollop for my date to scoop up with our check. I believe it was a nice addition to his meal of Egg’s Benedict, a Luwdig staple.

After each long morning of feeding our gastronomical appetites, we felt the need to switch gears and feed our intellectual appetites by attending museums. On Friday, we enjoyed the Middle Eastern exhibit at the Met, and explored the beautiful paintings at the Frick Museum on Saturday. For lack a pressing schedule and a stuffed disposition, we opted for our walking shoes over a cab ride. How nice it felt to walk!

Our two post-museum spots were Bar Italia on Madison and Café Sabarsky on Fifth. Both cafes have very different atmospheres: Bar Italia, with its swanky, white-wall interior and prime address for high end shoppers, brings both the upper-east side scene and visiting Europeans together, gracing the bar with their thick smoky accents and savoir faire. The authenticity of its diners speaks wonders about the food: it is real Italian cuisine. From Tuna Carpaccio to Tagliatelle a Ragu’ di Vitello, the menu is genuinely Italian, made for a sophisticated palette and an even more sophisticated wallet.

Tuna Tartare dish at Bar Italia

Café Sabarsky was an entirely different experience. Set on the ground floor of the Neue Gallery on 86th and 5th Ave, the restaurant is brimming with a long line of hungry art enthusiasts, curious European families, and numerous regulars who huddle privately at their favorite tables. The menu is a bona fide German menu featuring bratwursts, sandwiches, strudels, and quality beer to name a few. Ludwig was particularly pleased with his beer, a bottle of Radeberger, which he explained was rare even in Germany, and his favorite beer to enjoy. I was particularly happy with my dessert: a simple berry tea cake that was surprisingly moist and sponge-y with a delectable crust covered in succulent berries.

Once again, on both days, we had eaten ourselves merry. On Saturday we decided to digest on the sunny lawn in Central Park. We let the hours drift by us as a sun inched down the sky and we followed suit, gradually making our way downtown to Chelsea by dusk. The walk was yet again useful, we were ready to enjoy a fabulous, lengthy dinner each night!
As our dining experiences tend to be, both dinners were diametrically opposed in environments and menus, but equal in their excellence and execution. Friday night was Del Posto in Chelsea. It has been our favorite restaurant since we went there for the first time in June. (Another wonderful Italian gem is Scalini Fidelli in TriBeCa.) Del Posto Dinner
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The last restaurant I will post about is Brushstroke in Tribeca where we went for our final night in the city. This place is for avid Japanese connoisseurs who aren’t afraid of getting down with sashimi. It is not your typical sushi restaurant where your plate is an array of rice and seaweed rolls with a hint of spicy tuna in the center. At Brushstroke, raw fish takes center stage. Sure, there are additional meat, rice, and soup courses that compliment their piscine counterparts, but for the most part, it is a martime experience. Overall it is a fine restaurant. Our service was fantastic and our food was prepared in front of us (not hibachi style, mind you) with impeccable artistry. The flavors were remarkably complex and the planning of the menu, prix fixe and always changing, was clearly done meticulously.

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Fond memories of dancing on the highline in my ethereal white gown.

Watch me dance!

Dear friends,
For those of you who are interested in seeing me dance, I have posted the link to my ballet website below. In it you will find youtube links, photos, and my resumé. Though I have chosen against a career in professional ballet and have opted for an education abroad, I am still very much a dancer through and through. I will always feel the need to leap through the air rather than confine myself to a treadmill. In fact, dance is so much a part of me that I cannot imagine my life as a non-dancer. That said, I am going to be looking for various ballet conservatories the minute I land in Paris! More on that experience later…

http://quincychilds.webs.com/

I hope you enjoy them :)

Fondly,
Quincy

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