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Submersion

Tango is something that requires investment. Not only time and money, but above all emotional. It reflects our moods, or more precisely, our moods are reflected in the way we feel when we dance.

In the past few months, going to Tango was like going to Church. Not to say I'm even Christian, but it was the same idea, dedication, devotion, immersion. In rain/snow/heat we'd trudge to Mason hall's 3rd floor, eschewing appointments, turning down dinner appointments in order to spend 3 hours learning new moves, connecting with new people.

Slowly we see the road unfurling, looking back when ochos looked impossible. Adjusting to stabbing pains in the feet after 5 hrs of solid dancing. Blisters from shoes, elated when we got the move, frustration descending when we didn't.

I haven't been blogging for sometime because Tango is like a partner, for now my emotional investment is somewhere else. So, temporarily I have had nothing to write, except to acknowledge the fact that I've settled in a comfortable niche. Confident enough to dance with better leaders, but still lacking the grace and technique of advanced followers.

I will miss the convenience of lessons in walking distances, milongas with familiar faces, dragging new people to try this dance and discover for themselves its beauty. I haven't had enough of it, but I have to leave. Such is life.

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