Is there anything more to be said?

It seems that everything there is to say about Tango have already been said. Every move has been created and copied in multitude.. Every thought has been processed, shared, and consumed... Every dance experience has been had. Every song has been heard, every beat has been stepped. Have accepted too many dances, turned down too many cabeceos, Have been to countless milongas, many festivals, stayed up all too many nights dancing all night. Have taken many post-tango Advils, suffered many tango injuries, have been stepped on, bumped against, pushed around, pulled away... I have worn all the fashionable tango clothes, paid too much money for shoes and accessories.

So... Am I done?

In words of a famous poet:
The most beautiful sea hasn't been crossed yet.
The most beautiful child hasn't grown up yet.
Our most beautiful days we haven't seen yet.
And the most beautiful words I wanted to tell you...

and I add:

the most beautiful tanda hasn't been danced yet
The most beautiful tango hasn't been written
The most fun entry in this blog I have yet to write
The best pair of tango shoes I am yet to find

I have yet to dance in Paris, Beijing, or Sidney
I have yet to sing a tango out side of my shower
I have yet to capture that great feeling
that connection
that palpitation
I have yet to put it in a jar
like a summer time firefly
And keep it for cold winter days...

This is when time is beginning every day
setting it self to zero
recharging
This is when, finally, beginning is fun..

So this is the beginning..
Never the end...

Or if you wish... there is no beginning.. and no end...

Change is good... Change is good...

It has been a long time that my blog has remained stagnant. It stayed a loyal friend that I could return to at times of despair, loneliness, confusion, inspiration, and joy... And yet so many times I turned my back on it, ignored it, thought of canceling it.. Especially within the last two years, I have even become more obscure, less visible, more abstract, less connected, more puzzling... I think I need to reset my relationship with it.

I felt the need tonight to give it a new look. It will not be a new blog. I probably will be as capricious towards it as ever. I will still at times ignore it, sometimes overwhelm it, other times pay no attention... But it will remain. It will be here. Waiting for me to spill my guts, to tell my story, to write my poems, to paint my life and to share it with you.

I honestly do not even know if anyone is still reading this blog. If you are, I hope this blog is something interesting, a wild perspective that you did not expect, or a familiar one that you yearn to find.

This new look almost offended me first. It is so funny.. We are such creatures of habit...The old simple layout became such a usual habit for me that when I changed it I felt a little sad. When I looked at this new layout, I realized there is much to like about it. And yet I need time to get used to it. To move my fingertips around its face, to recognize, to familiarize, to memorize its features... I need time with it, but I am willing to dance this tanda with it. I will not say thank you after the first song, I will dance the next few tangos with it, and see how it goes.

The birds started singing again. Again, it is way passed my bed time. The stars are beginning to disappear, the day light is once again about to touch my toes. Once again, I am awake when most of you are asleep conjuring up an imaginary friend for my self, who might or might not read this post..

good night..

Last night...

Last night, I danced a milonga tanda, and I had that wonderful feeling again. The feeling of moving as one. The flutters of anticipation took over. The subtlest movements were met by understanding, the surprise of moving so well together overjoyed both of us and we both knew it.

A perfect few minutes of understanding each other, having patience and willingness to be together... A perfect few songs of mischievousness and trickery, a perfect few moments that are so difficult to replicate...

It does not always happen, this magical thing. Sometimes you think it is lost forever. Other times you find yourself having forgotten that you are looking for it. But it finds you. It finds you like the wind finds sails, like the sun finds the horizon, like the waves find the shore...

and then I find my self wondering, how I could even wonder whether it is lost forever, or doubt it is coming back...Because it will always find you, give you a kiss, make the corners of your mouth curl up, and inevitably will leave... again...


The image is "Fishing Boats Leaving the Port of Le Havre" 1874, Cloude Monet...

Ode to feeling better...

Another disagreement
Another fight
Another disheartened soul
Another flight

Flight away from this place
From this town from this feeling
Slightly worse, with tears on my face
Slowly dealing, slowly healing

Here is to never never and ever
Here is to tomorrow feeling better
Buying a new pair of tango shoes
Mending my soul with stilettos and booze...

Stream of tango subconsciousness...

anticipation
imagination
wondering
suspense
intense attention
yearning to understand
trying to make a good impression

becoming familiar
becoming regular
becoming mundane
and you stop hearing your own heartbeat
and you know that is the end
that your imagination has runout
and that you know him too well
That he holds your hand but does not feel your heart beat
You dance but it is not the same

and then.. across the room
there is a pair of eyes you don't know
that ask a question
so beautifully
that you are curious to make up an answer for
and eventually make him forget his question
his ambition
only he wants to hear you now
and you hear your heart again