My Tango Diaries

I have never known so many generous, kind, sensitive and loving men at one time , as I have since I started tango. One tanguero in particular, one of the first gentlemen to dance with me, always greeted me so warmly at every milonga that I thought we must have known each other in a past life. As I watched him make his way around the room, with his deep voice and bear hugs, bringing a smile to every person he came into contact with. I never saw his kindness, gentleness or patience waver. Not in the three years since I started tango. He didn't need acquaintance in a past life to make someone feel like family, it was just his nature to treat people that way. The last time I saw him, he was relaxing in the deep, comfy black couch (that once seated in - is remarkably difficult to get out of) at Esquina Tango watching the milonga swirl chaotically in front of him. His eyes focused past the dancers, to everywhere and nowhere in particular. He smiled a soft, somewhat ...

My teacher's words come back to me. "You dance too small,      too soft,           too quiet." A year ago I could, and did, claim lack of technique, lack of lessons, for dancing that way. So I studied, took lessons, practiced. Experimented. I danced bigger ("with more expression!") I danced harder ("more dynamically!") For awhile. While I will probably always be able to point to lack of good technique in these things, after all I never stop learning and developing as a dancer, these days technique isn't really the at the heart of the issue. Dancing bigger seems to, except for rare occasions, make me feeling like I'm wearing someone else's clothes. It's okay for playing dress-up, but it's not really me. I recently watched a video of myself dancing with a leader I've danced with a long time. For once, I managed to dance without caring about the camera. This gentleman has been dancing with me sin...

From:  http://www.morguefile.com The slight, shy leader in front of me had started tango lessons a few months before, dabbled in it a bit, and with many other dances, but within the last month decided to get serious about tango. That night he was attending his first milonga. I was happy to see him return to tango. When I met him in a class a couple of months prior to that, I was struck by his warmth and gentleness. So when he asked me to dance, I accepted, and told him how happy I was that he was coming out to the milongas. He smiled warmly and embraced me with such tenderness that I was momentarily too surprised to move. Had I mistaken him for someone else? Had we danced socially before and I just didn't remember? Nope - this was the same leader I remembered from the class. We changed weight for a moment and I decided to risk startling him (which happens sometimes with new leaders), and hold him like we'd been dancing for ages. He embraced me back with th...

Going through emails and messages over one of the links I posted on Facebook, to Irene and Man Yung's Tango Blog about "Mean Girls" about the hows and whys of rejection. These are quotes from two of the comments and they both reflect what I hear a lot from leaders: D: " What I was objecting to was the followers who insist on only dancing with expert leaders despite having relatively low skills themselves." D: "When you [comment addressed to me] talk about not betraying the dance, you are talking about people's skill level, their artistic ability, not about the danger of injury, and not about manners. And this is a topic that comes up a lot, and it's usually quite explicitly about skill level. " All I can say is - no, I'm not actually talking about skill level, and I really don't know how I can make that more clear. *exasperated sigh*   Please highlight this as possibly the most important thing I may ever write a...

Dancing in Austin, Denis and Deena's Milonga // --Mari The Guest House This being human is a guest house. Every morning a new arrival. A joy, a depression, a meanness, some momentary awareness comes As an unexpected visitor. Welcome and entertain them all! Even if they're a crowd of sorrows, who violently sweep your house empty of its furniture, still treat each guest honorably. He may be clearing you out for some new delight. The dark thought, the shame, the malice, meet them at the door laughing, and invite them in. Be grateful for whoever comes, because each has been sent as a guide from beyond. From Essential Rumi by Coleman Barks

San Telmo Plaza Dorrego - Wikipedia Images "There is always an elderly, overweight, Argentine guy in a suit who slowly dances around the edge of the dance floor, and all he does is walking and maybe an ocho once in a while. And he has usually an amazingly beautiful girl who dances incredibly well plastered all over him. Be that guy. "There is also always a someone on the dance floor who wrestles his partner through all kinds of maneuvers, interrupted only by short pauses where he repeats a move 5 time till it "works", or where he explains just exactly how the follower has to move to make the 40 step sequence he wants to do work. Note that he dances mostly with beginners. Note the frozen smile on his partners face. Don' be that guy ." Still one of my favorite quotes about tango, originally from Dance-forums.com - http://www.dance-forums.com/showthread.php?p=514203

(Picture courtesy of http://www.morguefile.com ) Fragments of a Conversation Body at War I can't remember a time when my body was not on guard. Ready to decide - stay and fight or run away. My secret daily routines as a child included having a bag packed at all times. Scanning every building for places to hide. At a very young age, I knew if I were running from someone, don't go up, don't go into rooms with no exit or window, don't get trapped. This isn't the sort of information a child should have to know, is it? I don't even remember where or how I learned it. I just knew I always had to have a plan. If I couldn't make myself safe, I could make myself ready . I lived in Nebraska, Iowa, South Dakota, Arizona, Massachusetts, and finally landed in Texas. Every place I lived, until I moved in with my husband, I had a bag packed. Every time we moved, I made plans for where I would need to go.  Even now, when I walk into a room, I note th...