“Nijinsky”

I love Nijinsky. As a youth I read everything I could find on him. I longed over the few photos that survived. It isn't that I wanted to be a dancer it's that his life.  Vaslav Nijinsky's strange amazing life spoke to me as no others had.

He touched my Soul.

It was good perhaps that we were separated by half a world, and more than a century of apocalyptic history.

If I were a boy once more had access to a time machine, and could speak French, Russian, and German. I would be his shadow.

A Queer colored teenager from the 21st century pursuing the object of his heartfelt desire. This amid the intrigues of 1911 Moscow.

I can see it now. Romola, Nijinsky's long suffering wife sits me down in his study. She pour me mint tea, and says, "...young man"

"You must understand my husband is very busy"

Steam curls above my cup.

"His work is very important, and he can't be disturbed"

"I just want to see him for a moment" I say

"Please, I just want to look into his eyes"

"..to see his Soul"

"I must understand him"

She looks kindly at me.

"I wish the same" said Romola. "So do we all that love him" 

With that she turns reaching for the tea pot, "...does your mother know where you are?

That's as far as I take my fantasy. How to explain my time machine, becoming a youth again or YouTube?


Sydney