Why Dance is Freedom

5…6…7…8 my teacher counts us off and then we are off and smiling for days and adding our style and attitude, dance is the freedom of style and emotions.

When I am sad or having a bad day I want school to be over so I can go to dance to cheer me up. For example when I have had a lot of tests or quiz’s that day I like to freely show my emotion and feeling through my dancing, especially lyrical. because, when

There are so many different types of dance so, you can freely choose to be sassy, sad, fierce or graceful. For example when I am tap dancing I still do the steps we are supposed to do but, I add my own sass, unlike ballet where I am more graceful and focused on detail.

Dancing really helps me be me and not who people tell me to be. Therefore that’s why dance is freedom.

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Cooking Show

One lazy afternoon on a Saturday my friend Miranda and I decided to make our own cooking show. We gathered up all the ingredients and set up the camera. Three…. Two… One… The camera began to do its magic.

To begin the show we squished the brownie bites with our hands, freshly washed. Then PLOP goes the brownie in to the white creamy milk. Then as we carefully spooned out the big chocolatey chunks of brownie bites, milk began to slowly trickle from the spoon.

The show was a great hit on the TV… it never really aired..

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Dance

Dance
A way for me to show my emotions.
A way to tell stories through your movement.
A way to express who you are.

Makes me feel free.
Makes me feel Sad,
Happy,
Excited.

When you leap you feel like you are flying
When you turn you feel like you are on a merry go round
When you kick you feel like your leg will go on for days

Dance

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Friends

Friends

The ones who cheer you up when you are sad
The ones who make you laugh
The one who you can be yourself around

They never let you down
You can always trust them
They treat you like you are part of their family

Friends

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Almost Loosing My Friend

As the ambulance sprinted through the door they went scrambling through their supply bag to pull out a shiny, pointy needle that they began to poke through my friends pale skin. As the medicine in the needle reached her veins they began to put a clear oxygen mask on her to help her get her oxygen back into her lungs. After she got some air back they rolled out the stretcher and gently moved her onto the stretcher and rolled her out to the truck. As I heard the siren of the truck slowly echoing away I prayed that she would be ok.