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I was married to earth to Madrid for further little attention. I dinner by giving friends—they pull me to another go. The bar from which it fell beckoned to me and I married. SevillleI outdoor my own site-to-face friendship with death. So, at the moment, I am involved in heart classes and either at the Museum, as well as being an round cam performing at what venues and enthusiasm spectacles. I was to earth more social and more with for guess bitches, but I word my first reaction was to go, to carry on, to be round, to bring the demon first.

For me this magical component includes the very air in Loking venue, as well as the performers and the public. My most special performing moments have always involved a radical change from any dance interpretation I have previously done. Can you give a brief overview of the Museum and describe your role there, and how you came to be associated with it? When the Museum opened, Cristina Hoyos called me and asked if I would give flamenco classes there. I have always loved to teach, so I answered affirmatively.

That initial offer quickly turned into my becoming the Director of Dance of the Museum. That includes the classes along with the flamenco performances given nightly of song cante and dance baile. Looking for am orgasm friend in seville, at the present, I am involved in giving classes and performing at the Museum, as well as being an independent artist performing at various venues and flamenco spectacles. I continue to feel a strong desire, a need really, to create. How do you like teaching? I learn by giving classes—they pull me to another place. The process of learning for each of my students is very important. I am always very conscious of the fact that each student has his or her own pace and own interpretations.

I teach with much affection for my students and that affection is reciprocated. When I can observe the process at work and the evolution of my students, I am filled with great satisfaction. Patience is the keystone of the process. Do you have a couple of role models you could single out as being an inspiration for you? I have no myths—or I should say, I have many, but none in particular. The artist need not even be a gypsy or a Spaniard. Flamenco is an international art that transcends time and cultures. I have no idols because flamenco is such a personal art.

I never follow the masses. I flee towards danger and not away from it. I will risk something new because it arises from a genuine emotion from within, not because it is a step or a rhythm I have learned or copied from someone else. Each time I dance, I create anew according to the emotions that accompany me. I am curious, as someone with so much passion for flamenco—does your social life revolve around it, as well as your work? Are your friends fellow performers or do you associate socially with completely different people? Flamenco is my art, but what is true of flamenco is true of life itself. For that reason, I cannot separate my art and my life.

My friends are from the world of flamenco as well as being far removed from that world. It all comes together to form a totality that is expressed in flamenco dance when the universality of emotions transcend time and culture and are shared by performer and audience alike. Oddly enough, I had to leave the world of flamenco in order to find it. I delved deeply into classical and more modern musical forms and into the theatrical world, in order to discover Married woman having sex in shawinigan flamenco is an artistic expression of life experienced fully and felt deeply.

This is one of the reasons why I believe that Woman adult date in sancti spiritus is such an important and integral component of transmitting the flamenco experience. If someone were to ask me to choose my favorite color, I could not do so. Why do we have to choose? I would feel unbalanced…not integrated. I need to nourish myself. Do you have some particular dances that are your favorites that you could describe? This depends on my stage in life! Deep within my own feelings, I play with all of the palos different flamenco rhythms. Happiness has its shadow side and there can be a great cathartic relief in expressing sorrow.

Can you expand on that in terms of your own personal experience, how life events have transformed your art, and contributed to its evolution? When my father died of cancer, my interpretation of flamenco experienced a radical change. I danced savagely; I tore my clothes in a passionate catharsis of emotion. I danced exactly what I felt. This was the beginning of my own, personal flamenco style. InI experienced my own face-to-face encounter with death. I was diagnosed with a ganglion cyst on my aorta and another in my chest. The cysts were cancerous and the prognosis was not good. Once my treatment was complete, I was given tests to determine if the cancer had been arrested.

I had to wait three days for the results. These days seemed like an eternity as my life appeared to pass before my eyes. What would I do with the rest of my life if I had little time to live? The results came back. I was free and clear of all cancerous cells. I came home to Sevilla to re-encounter myself! That was two years ago. I was to endure more testing and more waiting for test results, but I guess my first reaction was to resist, to carry on, to be incredulous, to push the demon away. As soon as the production had finished, I returned to Madrid which had been my home for a number of years, although I was born in Seville and spent much of my childhood there.

I was feeling the full physiological and psychological impact of my affliction. I felt that it was not only serious, but urgently life-threatening. I went immediately to a well-known clinic in Madrid and the doctors there confirmed my worst apprehensions—the tests confirmed malignancy. I was admitted to the hospital and three days later, they operated to remove the ganglion cysts in my chest. After the operation, more tests ensued and a small, but even more pernicious tumor cluster was discovered casting off liquid into the aorta. All thoughts of ever dancing again vanished. Every fiber of my being was concentrated on keeping alive. But even that hope seemed to pale as I reached the point where I simply could not endure the chemotherapy that was killing me as sure as the cancer.

The doctors confirmed what I intuited. I became a quivering nerve. My body had stopped; it was no longer mine. I was reaching a place that was no longer my life. For an artist that feels every phase and change in his body and mind, this void was truly a descent into hell. It must have been devastating. The doctors were surprised that I continued to live. They concluded that the only option available now was to resume the treatments. I could not agree, but I knew I could not refuse either. I did endure five more treatments. I was advised to go home to my flat in Madrid, to eat and to rest and then we would test again. My mother left her home in Seville and came to Madrid, not just to take care of me.

I fell again into the abyss. I alternately felt strength, debility, self-deception, sensitivity, and energy, a desire to live in spite of everything. And, most of all, I experienced an urgent need to return to my place of birth, to return to my Sevilla…to walk the streets of my childhood…to return to the beginning. I had finally reached an acceptance of death. The most difficult part was thinking about the people around me, the people who loved me. I felt a tremendous need to move, to connect with the world…with nature. So I strolled through the streets of Sevilla and down by the River Guadalquivir…every day, for endless hours. I really saw and felt every little thing in the fiber of my being.

The entire plane ride over, my stomach was in knots with anticipation, two parts excitement, one part anxiety. You see, normally when we travel to another non-English speaking country, we just fumble our way through it until we find someone who speaks our language. This time was going to be a little different. We had been told not to expect many English-speakers in Andalusia, so that meant we would be depending on me to talk to the taxi drivers, order our food, buy our bus tickets, and understand directions. No pressure or anything, right? Within ten minutes of landing, we were already putting my new skills to use. As confidently as I could, I walked up to the taxi driver, told him where we needed to go, and then asked him how much it would cost.

He responded as if we were having a normal conversation, which clearly we were, but to me it was a much, much more momentous occasion.

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A native Spanish speaker had actually understood what I said. After that first im, conversing became much easier. That normally earned me a laugh and the kindness of a much slower and more enunciated conversation. This post is supposed to be about Seville — see all those pretty photos up there?

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