NEVER MIND...JUST DANCE.

WHEN I TOOK MY FIRST BULERIAS CLASS, HERE IN SEVILLA, I did the typical Canadian thing and apologized to Ramon Martinez, my teacher, because my Spanish was poor. 'Lo siento,' I said, 'mi espanol no es muy bueno.' He smiled and replied to me in English, 'Never mind! Just dance!' He actually said a bit more than that, but this was the core of his advice. So now, 'Never mind, just...' has become my motto for every artistic endeavour I do. I think it's a good one.

Not sure what to do with your bulerias improvization? Never mind, just dance.
You flubbed that last llamada? Never mind, just keep going.
Where does this all end? Never mind. It's not about some far-off goal you may never reach. It's about the journey. Just go! Enjoy!

How many of us waste our time obsessing over small details or never allowing ourselves to make mistakes? I'm guilty of this in dance, which is why, for me, improvisation is so difficult. Ramon told me not to be afraid to fail, to make those mistakes. So flamenco is not just about understanding its physical technicality. It's also a battle with one's pride, never an easy thing to do. Furthermore, it's also about looking so confident that when you make a mistake, you hide it, as if to say, 'Oh, yes? I meant to do that.'

I find this motto so helpful. How about using, 'Never mind, just...(then fill in the blank with whatever your goal is at the moment)? For example:

Ticked off, because the short story you submitted wasn't accepted? Never mind, just write.
Not sure where to start that novel? Never mind, just start. Anywhere. You're going to edit the damn thing to death anyway.
Frustrated because that painting isn't working? Never mind, sometimes it's the mistake that makes the piece shine.

One of my fellow bulerias students is deaf. As Ramon sings, she watches his lips carefully, so she'll know what to do and when to do it. (Bulerias is tricky this way. There are places in the cante where you can do certain moves, and other places where you shouldn't. Thus, my confusion, especially when the cante, or singing, is constantly changing.) In spite of her handicap, she's been dancing with Ramon long enough that her improvization is amazing. She is, by far, one of his best students.

I have one more class with Ramon on Monday, and then I leave Seville for Canada. I've enjoyed my time here very much. I've learned a great deal, and I can't thank Ramon enough for that. He's changed how I see myself as a dancer. I am more confident, yes. Perhaps also confident enough not to worry so much about future mistakes. :-)

Will I return to Seville next year? I can't say. But I can say this: 'Never mind. Just dance.'
(Thank you, Ramon.)

- Susan.

IS IT LUCK, OR SOMETHING MORE?

La Metropol Parasol or 'Las Setas'

THE PICTURE ON THE LEFT IS OF SEVILLA'S METROPOL PARASOL, or as it's colloquially known, Las Setas (the Mushrooms). Mostly made of reinforced birch wood, it swoops over the Almirante Apodaca, a major street which I walk along nearly every day. Whenever I do, I'm reminded of how incredibly lucky I am to be here in Seville, studying flamenco with a world class instructor and enjoying the city itself.

I am lucky. But is luck all there is to it?

I debated posting this post. Nearly talked myself out of it, but I'm going to anyway, because the point of writing blog posts is to offer something of interest to your readers, and maybe even some help. I'm going to tell you what I think, and depending on who you are and what your experiences have been, you'll either agree with me, allow for the possibility, or dismiss what I say because it's too 'woo woo'. I read some stats recently, about belief. Those of you who agree with me will fall into the minority, around 25 percent. 50 percent of you will say the jury's still out on whether the world of spirit exists, and the rest will negate what I say altogether. 

Am I lucky, or is it something more?  

I never expected to be here. I never expected my love for flamenco or writing to bring me the opportunities and success they have. I never thought Mike, my dear husband, would support me in either of these passions to the extent he has, and I must certainly take that into consideration. But I also feel there is a spiritual connection to the success I've enjoyed and continue to enjoy. My life has been one surprise after the other. I never expected any of these good things to happen.

That said, I did ask for them. I asked for spiritual help with both my writing career and my dance. And I've received help in spades. 

Who has helped me? Well, that is the question. I think we go on existing after we die. I think death is a transition to a bigger reality than what we know now, a bigger, broader experience. I also think once we pass, we can help those of us who are still in physical form.

I'll tell you a funny story. It's funny because it could be my imagination, and I'll allow for that. Years ago, when I was just starting to dance and struggling with it (but then, flamenco is always a struggle, because you're always reaching for the next level), I asked Antonio Gades to help me grow. Antonio Gades, one of the top maestros in the flamenco world and known internationally. He had passed away a few years earlier, in July, 2004. I was having a small hissy-fit over my lack of ability as a dancer, frustrated because it wasn't happening quickly enough, so I looked up into the air and hailed him like you might yell at an actor from the audience: I really want to dance, Antonio! I need to! I love it so much! Can you help me? (I smile as I write this. I wasn't completely serious when I put the question to him. I was feeling very passionate and emotional and upset about the whole thing). As soon as I finished my heart-felt plea to Antonio, an answer popped into my head. It was this: Do you practice?

I was completely taken aback. I hadn't been practising. Not really, other than mucking about for an hour or two before a student show, and certainly not on a daily basis. What I 'heard' was  exactly what I needed to do. 

I still don't know for certain if this was a real response or my imagination working overtime. I've decided it was real. I felt a bit silly that I should bother such a great maestro, when the answer to my desire was so patently obvious. (And this is why I still like to refer to him as Saint Antonio. Because maybe he is.)

Anyway, all I'm saying is, if you have any faith in the world of spirit at all, and you're in earnest over something you want, or want to do, maybe ask for help. See what happens. You just might get what you need. The luck you reap may be more than you know

Until next time, olé!

- Susan.  

AN HOUR OF BRUISED EGO or LIVING THE LIFE?

I HAVE A 10:00 BULERIAS CLASS EVERY MORNING THIS WEEK, with Ramon Martínez at the Alicia Marquez' School of Flamenco Baile. Yesterday was great, but difficult - first days always are. You're faced with learning combinations of steps you've never done before (or have never put together in quite the same way). In a class full of regular students, you're going to stand out because you're making mistakes and trying to catch on as fast as you can. As I headed for my class this morning, it was with some worry. I'd been thinking about what I'd learned the day before, I'd gone over it all night in my head, knowing I hadn't retained everything (but then, I rarely do). No one had taken videos of the class yesterday, so I felt awkward about doing that. I hoped today would be better. There was no guarantee it would.

It takes me about fifteen minutes to walk from our apartment to the school. As I went, I considered - what's an hour of bruised ego? No one's really paying attention to you, or if they are, it's only fleetingly. Everybody's focused on their own growth. So really, Susan, you're lucky to be here, even if it means dealing with a bit of embarrassment and wearing a silly grimace when you mess up. You're living the life.

I suppose I am. But pride has a way of pooping on the experience. (Yes, I joke. But what else can you do, when you mess up? You may as well laugh at yourself.) It's best to take yourself seriously, and at the same time, not so seriously. There's irony in that.

Today was better, thank God. I did get lost on the way to the school once, so thank heaven for on-line maps, because they got me turned around. Luckily, I wasn't late, and we went over the same choreography, with minor changes. I'm getting it. I've always considered myself a bit of a slow learner when it comes to flamenco, mostly because I don't grab it immediately, but perhaps that's too much to expect. I need a lot of repetition, with lots of practice. And once the steps come without thinking, then it's about laying on the style. But maybe I'm not so different from anybody else who dances. Maybe that's just the way it is for most of us. My advice to any beginner out there? Keep at it, have faith in yourself, and eventually you'll get it. Keep going, don't give up, and don't let pride get in your way.  I suppose you could apply that advice to any creative endeavour. It certainly applies to writing.

And speaking of beginners, Ramon's class is advertised as for 'all levels'. Um, no. Not in the least. If you're a beginner, this class would be way over your head. I'm not a beginner, and I'm just keeping up.

But I do love it. I'm hoping tomorrow will be even better than today. We shall see what tomorrow brings.

Until then, olé! - Susan.

SEVILLA SORPRESAS (or surprises.)...

 LOTS OF SURPRISES SINCE WE ARRIVED. For one, the first flamenco workshop I wanted to take yesterday was cancelled, as there was only me and another student enrolled. Which changed my class plans a bit, but in hindsight, it's all for the better. I took my first class in Seville with Ramon Martínez

 today, and it was fantastic. It was challenging, but he's a wonderful teacher. There are dancers here who are better than me, and a few who dance at my level. I expect I'll learn a lot more about Bulerias over the next couple of months. Even today, I can see a difference in my style, although I still have a lot to fix with the footwork. So it goes. I'm definitely in the right place.

Mike's found a gym, and while he went to work out, I spent the time roaming around Plaza Alfalfa, which is a great area for bars, restaurants, and shopping. It's not too far from our apartment, either. My Canadian teacher, Jane, had mentioned to me a couple of flamenco shops (Senovilla for shoes) and Flamenco Pasión (for skirts, shawls, etc.). I stumbled upon them both, quite by accident. I also discovered a number of other flamenco stores, all catering to La Feria (which occurs in May), with some stunning dresses in their windows (at half price). Not sure I'll bring one of these home to Canada, but shoes are definitely on the list, and maybe, if I can afford it, a new manton (a large piano shawl). The one I like is silk and embroidered beautifully, but it's expensive. I will definitely buy fans and other paraphernalia for myself and friends. But mostly, I want to concentrate and spend my money on flamenco classes.

Another surprise - I'm actually managing with my faltering Spanish. Hopefully, getting better at it. I had a Spanish couple stop me today, to ask where Las Setas were. They were from out of town, with their child in tow. I was able to tell them, first explaining that my Spanish wasn't great. The husband corrected me a few times, but that's fine. I don't mind, and it will only make me better. They understood me, and I understood them. All good.

The photo in the upper left-hand corner is of La Catedral, a world heritage site. It was completed in the 16th century. A bishopric seat, it's considered the largest cathedral in the world. We spent last night strolling around it, and it was impressive.

I love Sevilla. Have I mentioned that?

Until mañana, olé! - Susan.