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Sunday, September 16, 2018


The door to a flamenco store front, while closed.
SO, IT'S BEEN TWO WEEKS SINCE WE'VE ARRIVED, AND ALREADY SEVILLA FEELS LIKE HOME. We have settled into a routine. Mike writes in the morning, has lunch and then hits the gym, comes home after a few hours, and we shop for supper. As for me, I have a 10:00 am flamenco class in Bulerias with Ramon Martinez. After the class, I like to sit in the nearby Plaza de San Lorenzo and make notes about what I did so I remember the drills and the choreography. It's interesting to see what I question from day to day, and then later, where I fill in the blanks.

Last Friday, which was week two of the choreography, Ramon divided the class into two groups; we were able to take videos of each other so we'd have a record of what he taught. So helpful, when it comes to figuring out what happens next during the 12 count (which, for those of you who aren't flamenco aficionados, bulerias is.) I feel as if I've learned a lot in the past two weeks, not the least of which is expression, or what Ramon calls 'sal' or salt. That freeing up of who you are, and how you express yourself during the dance.

Of course, it's vitally important to be technically precise. For me, that's always been the hardest part - to remember the remates, the llamadas, the taconeo, to be in compas. It has always been less difficult to express the 'sal' or 'salt'. Yet, I haven't - not really. Certainly not compared to what they do here in Spain. I suspect I've kept that (and myself) in check for years.

In flamenco, there is something to be said for 'less is more'. For holding onto the emotion, for being in control. But there is also something to be said for not holding back. For being confident enough to tell the world how you feel and who you are.

I love Sevilla. I love flamenco. I feel so fortunate to be here. But I also feel as if I'm really learning how to dance - as Susan, as myself.


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