Later is too late...

The boy asked her to wish for a star from gods now, so that they could watch it sparkle together. It was an innocent request, a sweet and unimposing wish.
The girl smiled and said "Later" Why did she say later? She was intimidated by Gods, What they might think, she had to be careful, wise.. There were many stars many moments... She had forgotten that the moments were not infinite, neither were the stars..
By the time she asked for a star, the sun was rising, and the stars were not as bright, no matter how bright, it was time for day light, the reality, the harsh illumination the cold reminder that time would not stop.
Her heart crawled up into a small ball, and she noticed, although this was not a huge loss, losses like these were to add up in life.. She realized this is the womb in which regrets are conceived.

Timing is everything. Sometimes the moments most wonderful to be had are delayed for whatever reason, and can never be captured again. So I learned...You can miss your fate, but how can you realize and avoid missing it?

Life at my fingertips...

Something wonderful happened. I was dancing with a good friend. We danced three songs, I was very much in my zone of tango, completely captivated by the tangos playing, became unaware and very aware of my surroundings simultaneously. At the end of the tanda, he said:
"I can feel your pulse, in your fingertips."
I could sense my pulse at my fingertips. It was beautiful. I was serene, calm, my heart was not pounding, it was just my pulse, that had spread from my heart, to the end of my fingers.
Life flowing in my body, wild, untamed, was rushing with even greater power, raised by tango. I felt really good that night. I felt beautiful.
And it was beautiful to communicate through fingertips...
And now, the same fingertips are typing this message, communicating once again what life is like now.

Moths around a flame...

My tango soundtrack is on again.. I told you. I told you it would come back, to lure me into its irresistable gravity. And it did. Pins and needles. I am looking at my tango shoes, and the mirror.. The mirror has a distorted image...Half my face is smiling, the other not. Am I the Mona Lisa? She is not that pretty, and not that happy most of the time. I am happy.. and when I am happy I think I am pretty. So I am not Mona Lisa. Was Mona Lisa as tall as me?
Did Mona Lisa have three spots on her abdomen? They are like the three men that leave their marks... One for the ones in the past, one for now, and a very faint undecided one, for the future.. Who knows maybe it will disappear in time, as the one now becomes larger and more prominent. Lets hope that happens. In the end, you don't want too many marks in your life or your abdomen.
Ok, I stopped looking at my abdomen in the mirror. I am looking at my shoes now. They have their beauty marks too. From dancing a lot. I like them more than any new pair. We have a history. They know what I am thinking when I am putting them on, when I am in them, and when I am taking them off. They know everything. I am just glad they cannot talk...
We are like moths around a flame, that we are drawn to, and sometimes we get too close and get burned, but we cannot resist going back.. Because that flame has this irresistable gravity that pulls us to it. And hence, I will put on my make up, and my tango shoes and fly to that flame, and try ot to get burned this time, if I can help it.

Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn...

I have had a busy day: meetings, lunch, a different place... And in the end, I have been so busy that I completely felt numb. When the day was over, I had this great epiphany.. Mostly, I use tango to escape from the numbness that I get from daily life. The lack of feeling, lack of meaningful connection, lack of contact. But sometimes, the opposite happens. When I find my self too involved in the life of tango, when tango seems to be taking over my life, reason, relationships, when it is taking a life of its own, and spiraling out of control, I use work, to cut down on the feeling consumption... I gradually lull my self back to numbness, until I finally can say: Frankly my dear I don't give a damn...
In a few days, the numbness will become pins and needles, and the urge to dance will become unbearable, and I will look at my tango shoes, and the mirror, and the shoes, and will put on my make up, and awaken my tango demons again and they will whisper:
Here's looking at you, kid..

Going to the airport...

Packed everything... the business stuff, the shoes, the toothbrush, my ipod, and my melancholy. Taking them all away. Traveling, on the cab, I was thinking I need a break, from this city, from this place, this community.. For a few days. So its good that I am on a cab.. Or is it..
Its funny, we like torturing ourselves.
As I was in the cab, I was looking at all the houses that we passed by, people living in it, it seemed cosy and nice, the ones that had their lights on. I wanted to drop everything, knock on their door, and ask if I can come in for dinner. We could talk about anything, except the stuff that is complicated. We can talk about their kids, and their life, what vacations they are planning, their family etc.. I would not want to talk about me.. It is all about me these days, my feelings, my confusion, my despair, my happiness, my joy..
But no.. work awaits. So I packed everything, including my melancholy.. And no, I did not pack my tango shoes..

Misunderstandings: in tango and in life...

Just like in real life. Some nights you are off. You try to connect, but no. You misunderstand the lead, but why? Either you are listening only to hear what you want to hear, or you are not hearing at all. Sometimes, my head is filled with feedback noise, my worries are too loud, my heart pounds too heavily, my thoughts are alive like ghosts of smoke circling around us when we are dancing. I can see them, and they distract me, but he does not see them. So he probably wonders...
Sometimes what you want to hear is that everything is going to be alright... And there is an exact tango translation of that. It feels like a safe harbour, a quite understanding, a calm and reassuring step, a warm embrace. Can he hear my palpitations and respond, or is it just a coincidence that he wants to dance the way I need him to?
And sometimes, none of this happens. My tango soundtrack is on.. I am in tune, I am beautiful, I am alive and all is quiet and lovely.

Fragile

"the strong breeze...It was an excuse,
Sun, honey, and amber...
the frozen wing... It was an excuse,
if not about to melt, was bound to shatter.."

High heels, make up, anti-static spray for the skirt... Dont want to zap anyone..Tangos, tandas, a swing of attitude, from despair to apathy, from apathy to forgetfulness. Coming home. When I went to bed I was glad to have a reminder that that I am still alive, I can still feel, in spite of the sea of worries and doubts that I have to deal with on monday..in life.. The reminder- what was it? Ofcourse my aching feet, my legs...

One and only one dancer....

What is this...I enjoy dancing with a lot of different partners for many different reasons. One of them can be much older but charming, solid leader and just pure fun. The other can be a good leader, mysterious, and creative. Another can be a total surprise, you never know what he will bring to the dance the next time. And then one day, one comes along, and dancing with him ( or her I guess for the leaders) is like eating one of a kind truffle. I mean please... From then on, all you want to do is dance with that person and nothing else.. Why? And then a month passes by, maybe more, and your tango affliction fades away.Its as if you are a pair of dice, hitting each other and becoming the same number. Than the tango gods take you two in their hands, and throw again, He falls somewhere else and changes, so do you. The game ends. But once in a while someone leads you into lust...

enjoying a milonga!

What makes a milonga enjoyable? Great partners? Good DJ? Sensible tandas? good moving dance floor? am I missing something?
I think I am.. When I first started dancing I looked at milongas only as opportunities to dance. I was learning this damn thing which was so difficult and challenging, and I was going to dance! Now the attitude changed.. Dancing is almost second nature, not because I am great, but because it is an addiction now, a very big habit. It is not constant struggle and an effort to prove my self.. Hence, now milongas are social events. Partners are not dance delivery systems. Music is not rythmic device for movement. And drink is not something you only take when you are thirsty.
And all this attitude change towards milongas, made them so much more enjoyable. I sometimes do not even care if I dance or not. I truly enjoy the conversations, the jokes, the music, and the wine. And I mostly dance with partners that I really enjoy dancing with. OR with friends that I cannot say no to. Thankfully, mostly they coincide.

connection, good connection, great connection...

So this is something like chemistry. or even alchemy.. Taking two people, making the experience into something golden. To beginners connection is mostly trying to keep the distance between you and your partner constant, so that you do not have the pulling pushing feeling. Moving as one.. But is seems strictly mechanical, at least when we are first learning to dance. And then there is the process of learning to dance well. It requires us to open all channels of communication to our partner, and be as receptive as possible. That is when the whole experience becomes intimate. We open all our senses, sense of touch, smell, hearing, except maybe to enhance other senses we close our eyes. Followers listen to the lead intently, leaders become fully aware of followers' attitude, mood, wishes. Then we move as one. and then the floor appears with many couples, and we connect with them.. except if there are couples that do not have a good connection with each other, it also means they do not have good connection with the rest of us... oh well.
This great connection is like what is at the end of the rainbow... a pot of gold.. or your favorite dance partner:) Not all of us get there, and not all the time.. You see these channels of communication, these senses, they are capricious things.. Throughout the day, life tries to make us numb, and then we try to feel again.Sometimes it does not work.. In such cases, the best thing for me is to cut my losses and enjoy the social atmosphere of the milonga.

The Day of Love...

Snow takes care of everything. Its quieter and cleaner when snow falls. Tango soundtrack kicks in. You can see the flakes of snow doing molinetes. Something pure, impulsive, instinctive inside awakens..And I always end up being surprised that I am capable of loving so much.

To wear.. or not to wear (red)

Many of the milongas organized around valentine's day have this not so original idea.. come wearing red! It really is not my favorite color. So how do we over come this problem.. how many dancers (female or male) have more than one item that is red in their wardrobe. How many of you are going to more than 1 valentine milonga? Now lets do the math.. Plus there is the problem of looking the same.. A sea of tomatoes in close embrace...
I am curious, does it bother people, if someone does not follow the suggestion of waering red? What is an easy solution to the problem of Red...

Blah blah tango blah blah...

To many tango dancers, this is infact what life is like... Everything that interferes with tango is just blah.. work, laundry, commute... if they are not related to tango.. they are just blah... But.. if the laundry involves tango clothes that are going to be worn that night, or if the commute involves going to tango, or if the errand involves taking the tango shoes for repair.. then it's a different story.. The soundtrack of life kicks in.. I call this the tango soundtrack, because, it seems like whenever I am dealing with anything that is remotely related to tango I get this sense, this feeling of music.. I am not actually listening to anything, but its there, at the corner of my mind, playing its tune.. like the little bird that starts chirping at an ungodly hour of the morning and wakes you up, can you get mad at that bird? I cannot..
Once that tango soundtrack kicks in everything becomes more illuminated, the lighting that surrounds you changes instantly, the people on the street seem to look at you with more meaningful eyes, your steps are more purposeful.. I cannot even keep a decent conversation with someone that I run into on the street, if I run into them while the tango soundtrack is on.. The music gets louder, and all I can do is smile and nod and hope that they don;t ask a question that requires an intelligent answer...
Why the intensity of feeling.. why?
does this happen to you too?
In a different way..