Tangodurians

What is your style? I started this dance wishing for boleos like Ariadna and now I want to walk, no, glide like Geraldine. I want the confidence and elegance of Juana's front spin boleos and the sexiness of Michelle's embrace. I want I want I want. Who do you dance like? Well the best compliment would be that you dance like no one else, that you have your own style and your own 'look'. This is what the best couples do of course, they create their own movement and their own interpretation of a move, but still adhering to the basics which connect all the maestros together on the level that they are on. What do you like? Make a choice and make it your own, pick something you like, yes it may change as you discover more and more dancers, find different teachers, music, locations to dance in. Have that flexibility to change, but ultimately know who you are as a dancer.

Urgh. So in love with this song currently. Yo no sé por qué extraña I                        razón te encontré,                                    Carillón de Santiago que está en la Merced, con tu voz inmutable, la voz de mi andar, de viajero incurable que quiere olvidar. Milagro peregrino que un llanto combinó. Tu canto, como yo, se cansa de vivir y rueda sin saber dónde morir... Penetraste el secreto de mi corazón, porque oyendo tu son la nombré sin querer. Y es así como hoy sabes quién era y quién fue, ¡la que busco llorando y... que no encontraré! Mi vieja confidencia te dejo, Carillón. Se queda en un tañir, y al volver a partir me llevo tu emoción como un adiós. I don't know for what strange reason I found you, Santiago's Carillon that is in Merced, with your immutable voice, the voice of my walk, of the incurable traveler who wants to forget. Pilgrim miracle who composed a cry. Your singing, like me, tires of living and rol

Taught a class at a bar high up in the roofs overlooking PJ and One U today. Crowded floor, complete newbies and people stepping on each others toes, the hallmarks of a beginning tango class. Laughter, conversation, partner switching. Echoes of a time back in a dusty Mason Hall classroom with friends, lovers and strangers. A memory past. I guess I did not highlight what we were dancing to. Amidst the laughter and social chatter going on, if only they knew what we were dancing to were such profound lyrics like " Think it well, I have loved you so much and you have sent me into the past perhaps for another love." How to convoy the paradox that exists in Tango? That everything is an illusion, the intimacy, the feeling, the need to connect as a pair yet to do so by looking inward first. That little spark that follows you forever, that connection that happens in one moment but never again and that embrace you'll spend the rest of your life searching for. Tango is