Creative Person; 29; Lynn Seymour

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. . . . . . . . . . . . and saw her. I know a hundred children entered for it and this little girl won. That meant she came to England and joined the Royal Valley School. Little springbed is for you to know her was watched with enormous interest and excitement by all of us. Her progress in the school, you showed her to be something quite outstanding as we had found. Her first bigger success was which was very young in 1960 in a sudden before when she had to give a vaccine in Australia. She refused to success shortly afterwards with a chemical milling production of the invitation which she played the young girl. And for then again was the usual weight of all dancers and she came to the fore, starting the last autumn in her portrayal of Julius again,

but millions of Romeo and Juliet. It's awfully hard to explain her gifts. She has an incredible fluid movement, great musicality and what perhaps is more important than anything, she is a born actress and her timing is quite remarkable, particularly in this direction. A lot of people think she is not really a classical dancer. I'm afraid I disagree with them. I don't think the quality of that movement could be found except in a classical dancer but she is not absolutely right for all the major classical roles and I think this is what gives this impression. This sometimes happens. Her future will always be interesting and when she dances there is an extraordinary sense of relaxation and this is a company it always at the same time with a great excitement in the performance

itself. How are you? How are you? How are you? How are you today? It is just the early in the morning and it is all rushing about the art press and it is cut and trapped and breast of spritz all over the place. And all these bright people If you have held it at Andywood, now we are done drinking the polish last bit and drinking. We are very sassy, here we are and make comments about your legs. This is a little song for me because you are darling. One just goes walking and big things.

When you catch things from the corner of your eye to start a corner which are nice and of course that sits your mind thinking about all manner of things. Makes me think of Colin because it is so pictorial. Who is Colin? Colin is my husband and he is a most beautiful photographer. We met in Japan and we were there on tour and he just bought a super book and I just bought a very beautiful Japanese prince. Oodly we said hello to each other before but we saw each other in the bar of the hotel and I went up to him and said I have got these prince and he came up to me and said I have got this book and so we showed them to each other and that is how it all began in exotic places.

Vancouver was remarkably comfortable. I had absolutely remarkable parents that looked after me beautifully. Life was really very good and it wasn't very good when I got to London except that in my mind my 14 year old mind I knew that I had come here to do what I wanted to do. So although all those other things weren't there, my object was and I guess it saved me. I lived in Peddington and a dead body was found in the gutter two weeks later. I didn't see it but it was a very grim area.

I think it struck me. There was all these bombed places full of water and all weeds and it was cold. Some of the people worried about having jammed hearts for tea and then they wouldn't have a steak for dinner you know and they'd make ugly things like bread and butter pudding and baked well tarts and toad and the whole and things like that. And I starved for about two months and then after two months of starving. I got so hungry that I ate everything, baked well tarts, bread and butter puddings, toad and the

whole soot pudding. I got off of fat and put meat. Friends mean a lot. The friends I have sort of like being married to them in a funny sort of way. It's a definite family and I've known them for ages because they're the first person that made me liking Bund. And we see each other practically every day and we know everything about each other really. Jasper is the favorite home to the commons of myself and of course all of them. It's got all of them. Very ridiculous. Victoria on in it which way it is. They've always got something new there and you feather fell or you stuffed bird or something. It's just nice.

We talk about people, other people, and we talk about performance and the nasty list of work. We talk about how unfair it is that some artists are highly popular and successful when Nicholas and Kenneth Rall are sitting there. Not nearly as popular and successful as they want to be. You see I've got this thing about, I mean work and what one wants to do, very important because it satisfies something. But it's not very satisfactory. If that's all you do, it's rather like doing class because if you can't be trade on your foot, you may get

awfully nice feet and rather acute your knees. I must tell you my piece. It's got gear and we're talking about how what a spring class works. I mean just someone gets so strained. You don't know what to do. I feel like you're just going to pop like that. And I've heard this gorgeous door about Garrett who has to take the class. It depends on all ferocious and stomping to the music and who really sweating during the period of his. And when they turn around I see all those defined little bottoms and I just melt. If he comes to you on everything then you are more likely to come up rather harmonious. I'd love to be super at everything. I'm sure it was a foreign gender. Some Sundays one absolutely longs for. If you've had a very hectic week, for instance, if Connor and I haven't seen each other very much in our various russings. Sunday it

looms like a sort of rose. You wake up. Not wanting to wake up. Wanting to really be asleep until about 12 because I'm always the first step on weekdays. So Colin gets tea which is dreamy. And then he climbs back in and we sit sipping tea and have our cigarettes before breakfast and all these wicked, terribly, capitalistic crimes which are reserved for Sundays only. Why aren't you on the front cover? It's all from America. It's nice. It's jerks. What was he doing? What was he doing? It was Miles.

And it was his one last one for Josh. With views, yes, which were I must say one can only take with a pinch of salt and very lightly. But always wonderingly and very surprised at what they say. What? He's asleep enough. Why? He said that there were two enchanting little numbers from Gregorovic. It was divine that the numbers were absolute crap. And that goes on to say that hence there was a vaguely hip arrangement by Kenneth McMillan to box him on if I did a bit of a room. Performed by Nurev with a nonchalant ease which enabled him to shed a pair of a calcium suppress without subtracting from, indeed, adding to the choreography.

You love that. He's going to commit scooter I should take. I think that's horrible. That's it, too. I have private lessons from a most wonderful teacher with whom I've started from the beginning. There always comes a point in one's career. When I've been as a young person, you've got to be good as an adult because you grow up and you're older and you've got to have something more,

something better. Anyway, I go to an old church hall, which is a super studio fairly dingy, more of this floor for dancing. On outside trains just fine. We can see in and everything. And we work away with no music, just the two of us. It's some very private. She's a wonderful person. She used to dance with Pavlava and she passes all this that she's gone through and she knows that the thorough way is the only way. And it applies to everything you do in the end, not just your dancing, no cheating. When all this has a nagging doubt about one's worth,

but also conflicting to that, there's one that thinks that you could be better than anybody else, but there's always this turmoil because although you know how you could do it better than anybody else, it sometimes turns out that you can't carry it out, but it's just most demoralizing. You know, I'm not sure that you swear blue. Oh darling, I've been wearing it for a year. Do you think? Do you really think? I do. Now, you know those pictures of Andrea,

that's the thing. Well, yes. She's got tiniest. And does she not wear eyeshadow in the picture? Well, she does. She wears a line. Yes. She does. But does her makeup look? She has her line right down there like that. Like with the top of here, blue is now. She wears a black line. So I got to try it. Do you want me to try to do it? Do I do it to you to Parkinson? He's my pal, and I couldn't do his outer. I go into lengthy details about how to do this, and we create each other's performances, and, you know, this sort of thing. It's a very personal way of warming up. Everybody has their own little warm-up, I think.

I know I practice you the same one all the time, depending on how tired or how fresh I am, or what's to be done that evening. I've got to think of feet for the invitation and moving my top around, my top half, because sometimes in my agonies and strivings and class, the feet being very farthest end of me get neglected too much, despite my attempts to think about everything. And I just warm up, I don't think about anything special. You just have to get yourself into a state of concentration, just that, and it's dreadful. I hate warming up for the evenings, because it's the time when you start the performance to get yourself into that way, because it doesn't matter how often you do a thing,

if you're not concentrated, then it's worth your loss. The invitation is set in the Edwardian times, there was a young girl who has a cousin with whom she feels childish, love for, there's a party and to her at her house to which an unhappy married man and wife come. The girl is mad they attract a tomb and flirts with him. The wife and husband argue even more because of this and rush off in a temper. The wife finds yourself alone and suddenly the young cousin is there and she seduces him the same time the husband is rushed off with the girl, and he savagely attacks her and she's left disillusioned and revolted.

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