When I was still an intermediate level Flamenco student, I was given some of the best advice I have ever received, that stays with me to this day.

It happened when I was trying to drill a llamada, or opening "call" step that you use to call the musicians and singer in for the next section of the piece. Because they serve this function, llamadas are usually exciting and punctuated with percussive heelwork that comes to a well-accented close.  Then there is a breath...
and the next section begins.

So you can imagine, the llamada must be executed clearly, without hesitation.  However, when you're a student still in your early days, these steps often seem intimidating.  Thus, a fear can set in and this is where you can get stuck.

So one evening, during a rehearsal at the dance studio, I was stuck in one of these moments.  I couldn't get a llamada por Alegrías (the rhythm of "Joy" of all things) to come out, even though I had done it a bunch of times in class.  The stress of having to do it by myself while others were watching was just too much for me.  It just fell apart after the first few counts.  I was about ready to cry from anger.  It was the complete opposite of what I was supposed to be channeling.

Then the words that have stuck with me for years came out of my fellow student, a tiny, but fierce dancer.  She smacked one fist into her other palm and said, "In Spain when that would happen to me, my teacher told me the problem was that I was afraid of the step and that as long as I was afraid of the step, it would never come out.  You actually already have it in you; you just need to let go and let it come out.  So just go for it.  Just do the step.  Don't fear the step.  Don't fear the step!"

Don't fear the step.  Just go for it.  It's already in you, you just have to get out of your own way.

How perfect is that, not just for dance, but for life?  That's why I still remember it.  I have continued to use that advice throughout my Flamenco career and studies, but I also think of my fearless friend when I have a challenge in other parts of my life, such as this new Lupus diagnosis.  The fear is what keeps me stuck, but when I am willing to let go of the fear, I get out of my own way and find that the step I am so afraid of is what will lead me to the next breath, the next verse, the next calling.

Now remember, there will always be steps in dance or in life that are more complicated than you are technically prepared for, and you will have to do the work to acquire those skills.  But when you know you have diligently done the work, and something still isn't quite right, it might be time to ask yourself, "Am I afraid of the step?  Do I need to just let go and see what happens?"  I bet you'll often find that's all you needed to do to get through that step and into the next breath.

And yes, by the way, that is what happened for me that night.  I let go and it turned out I did have the step.  And yes, I breathed a big sigh of relief and got a good joyful laugh too.


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Is there a step you know you need to take, but you're letting fear hold you back? How do you think you can "let go" and just take the step?  I'd love to hear from you in the comments section below!  Let me be your cheerleader!

I've been putting off writing this entry.  I've been putting it off so much, I did not even send out my newsletter last month.  I needed some time to process what I was feeling and how I was going to talk about it.  As I write this sentence, I still don't really know what I am going to say.

Last month I was finally diagnosed with Lupus.  I say "finally" because I've been dealing with mysterious symptoms for years now.  I've been going to doctors, having them run tests to explain things like hair loss, dizzy spells, heart palpitations, digestive distress, numbness and burning in my legs and feet, and massive fatigue, among other things.

About a year ago, my symptoms got worse.  After a very busy April full of several gigs, I ended up in bed for an entire weekend, frightened.  I had sharp stabbing pains in my stomach, heart palpitations, leg weakness, nausea, dizziness, and a fever.  I went to the doctor later that week, feeling horrible, and had all sorts of tests run.  Everything came back normal.  I was told it was "just stress".

By Thanksgiving, I couldn't empty my bladder.  After some testing, it was decided I would need physical therapy to regain proper function of my bladder.  It seemed unrelated to all the other symptoms, that my dancing was responsible, but now my team of medical practitioners seem to agree that the Lupus may have something to do with why my therapy is taking longer than predicted. Forgive me if it seems crude, but to put it quite simply, I haven't fully emptied my bladder since last Fall.

Anyway, after another busy April this year, I ended up with massive fatigue again.  After another round of "normal" test results, I begged my doctor.  I said, "Look at my face".  By now, I had developed a strange rash across my cheekbones, nose, and forehead, and cystic acne all over the rest of my face. He decided to run some other tests.  A week later he called me into his office.  "I think you have Lupus".  Two weeks after that, a Rheumatologist confirmed the diagnosis.  Besides positive lab results, I now learned there was evidence of arthritis in my joints and that mysterious rash on my face turned out to be the classic Lupus symptom.

I left that Rheumatology appointment and went straight to a gig.  I danced that gig with a new awareness of my body and my life thus far.  When you first start learning Flamenco, you are inundated with all of these new rhythms, each with different names, percussive accents, and melodic tones, even if the counts are similar.  The nuances are subtle enough that it can take a few years before a student can correctly identify what palo, or rhythm, they are listening to.  Then one day it clicks.  You hear the opening chords on the guitar, the first couple of accents, and right away you know that it's a Tientos, or it's a Tarantos.  It's a Solea or it's a Solea por Buleria.

This is how I feel about my Lupus.  I've been dancing with Lupus for years now, but not knowing it. You can only improvise, adjust, or choreograph so much if you don't know the nuances of what you're working with.  Now I know that I've been dancing with Lupus.  Now I know what to adjust for.  Now I know how to improvise around it.  Now I know how to choreograph with it.  Now I know.

There is such relief in knowing.  There is also wisdom to be gained from this point forward.  Just like in Flamenco, where there's a whole new level of learning once you've learned the basics, I am now looking forward to getting to know and understand this new rhythm of Lupus.  I'll keep you posted on what I learn.

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A few months ago, I wrote a blog entry about the basics of what to expect when hiring Flamenco performers for your special event.  In it I go over the details of how many performers you will need, what their roles are, and what you are paying for.  If you missed it, you can find it here: Part One.  

In this second part, I thought it would be helpful to explain exactly what Flamenco is and isn't.  After two decades of performing, it has become clear that sometimes there are misconceptions about what it is my colleagues and I should be doing.  I want to not only help you become a discerning Flamenco connoisseur, but I also want to give you some language to help you communicate with the artists you might be hiring.

I think the easiest thing is to show you some videos so, here we go!



First and foremost, these two videos are examples of what a real Flamenco performance looks like:

As you can see from both videos, you have a dancer with live musicians.  That is the number one basic thing to expect in Flamenco.  If it is not live, it is not really Flamenco in its truest essence.  Please read Part One of this article if you haven't done so already as I explain this in more detail there.  

The number of live musicians will depend on your event and your budget, but at a bare minimum you will have a dancer accompanied by a guitarist and hopefully you will consider a singer too, as the cante, or singing,  is priority number one in authentic Flamenco.

Please note that Flamenco runs the entire gamut of human emotion, from the sadness of the Solea danced by Juana Amaya in the first video, to the joy of the Alegrias de Cadiz danced by Patricia Guerrero in the second video.  Loneliness and Isolation.  Happiness and Romance.  You can have it all in a Flamenco performance, so don't worry about whether or not Flamenco will match the mood of your event.  It goes with everything.

Also, there are both male and female dancers in Flamenco, just as there are both male and female singers and musicians.  So feel free to ask, for example, if you would like a male/female combo of dancers.  However, Flamenco is mainly a soloist art form, so please DO NOT expect this:

Actually, the main reason to not expect this is that this is Ballroom Dancing, not Flamenco.  They are not the same thing.  If you want this at your event, you must hire Ballroom dancers.

I do not mean that we do not have partnered or group dances, I just mean that they are not the norm. We can have a partnered or group dance, and for shows we often do, but it will likely be a choreographed Flamenco number similar to the ones in the first two videos, or it will be the Sevillanas folk dance:

This folk dance, by the way, is the main place where you will see the castanets, but not always. Contrary to popular belief, the castanets are not required in Flamenco and are in fact, a delightful source of controversy among Flamencos.  Some love the castanets and others absolutely detest them. If you want castanets for sure at your event, please feel free to specify--otherwise, there is no guarantee they'll make an appearance.

Now let's get to a type of performance that is very common to see, but isn't necessarily a Flamenco performance.  This is what we call Rumba Flamenca.  The most famous example of Rumberos or Rumba musicians, are The Gypsy Kings:

As you can see from the video, there are Flamenco dancers dancing in the Rumba style and in regular Flamenco shows we often include a series of Rumbas at the end to invite guests to come dance with us because it is one of the easiest rhythms to learn.  It is also one of the funnest as it is primarily a popular rhythm for parties.

Rumba is great.  The Gypsy Kings are awesome Rumberos.  What is important to know when hiring entertainment is that there are Rumbero musicians and there are Flamenco musicians and they are not necessarily one in the same.  I have worked with amazing Rumberos who do not really know how to accompany traditional Flamenco dance, just as I have worked with Flamencos who have had to turn down requests for covers of the Gypsy Kings.  So if you want a party that's full of Gypsy King style music, you need to specify that when you initially contact a potential hire.  

By the way, as I said before, I work with both kinds so feel free to contact me if you are planning an event.

Finally, I need to specify one more Spanish style of music that is often mistaken for Flamenco, but isn't.  That would be the traditional folkloric style Coplas:

I have, every once and awhile, encountered a party planner who is disappointed and frustrated because they have called several Flamenco artists and no one seems to know that song their mother likes from back in the day.  When I ask them to describe it to me, it never fails to be a copla.  So then I need to explain how the two art forms are different even if one is informed by the other.  

So if your mamá wants to hear something made famous by Lola Flores, Rocío Jurado, Rocío Dúrcal, or Manolo Escobar, do not assume your chosen Flamenco artists will be performing these pieces!  Make sure to ask if they can and if they cannot, ask them to refer you to someone.  If I know that someone who is looking to hire me, would really prefer a show that mainly features this type of music, I will refer them to artists I know who specialize in these songs.  If they only want one or two songs in this style, I can often hire someone to bring along with me.  Most Flamencos should be willing to do the same so make sure to ask!

One more note on song requests.  Please do not drunkenly demand Alejandro Sanz or David Bisbal from your Flamenco musicians.  These two artists are talented, but they are pop musicians and their music is not even remotely Flamenco.  I don't care that Bisbal named a song "Buleria" after the Flamenco rhythm.  It's not Flamenco and it most certainly is not a Bulerias.  You do not know what a pet peeve of mine this drunken request is.  I have no qualms in saying it--THIS IS NOT FLAMENCO:

Well, that's it.  Those are the basics I feel you should know that aren't often explained.  I sincerely hope you found it fun and helpful, and I hope it serves to make life easier for both party planners and entertainers alike.  

Before I go though, I have one more important piece I really need you to know--don't ever expect me to show up with a flower in my mouth.  That is not real Flamenco.  That is for Hollywood.


What did you learn about Flamenco that you didn't know before?  Feel free to comment below.
If you're a fellow Flamenco and you have additional insights you would like to share, please join in the discussion below as well.

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"Whenever we are reaching for something, whenever we’re grasping something, whenever wanting is strong, our fear—which is one of our greatest, our strongest wants, is fear—when that happens, our belly tightens. Our abdomen tightens.

But look what happens now—and I’m talking to the people listening)—if you just soften your belly! (Sighs) So much holding. I mean, we hold all day long. No wonder we’re so exhausted at the end of the day! Just let your belly go now. You may not even know what that means. It just shows how habituated we have become to our suffering. Just let go. Let go! It’s so painful!" --Stephen Levine*

So when you read the above quote, did you notice that your belly was tight?  Did you notice that there actually was room to relax it, to soften it?  If so, you're not alone.  This is my constant practice throughout the day--"Oh crap, I'm totally clenched", or "Oh, there it is again; I'm gripping".  You would think I'd have better abs by now.

I am currently in the process of several healing modalities:  physical therapy, acupuncture, and somatic experiencing.  I am undergoing the physical therapy and acupuncture primarily due to chronic back pain and pelvic floor dysfunction.  At a first glance, these problems are due to my years of dancing or to state it more accurately, to my negligence in properly cross-training to support my spine.

However, something that has been really eye-opening has been the level of insight I have gained from my meditation practice combined with the somatic experiencing (SE).  To give you a very, very brief explanation, the SE has shown me to identify how I hold the stress of past memories and events in my body as tension and stiffness.  I have also noticed how I will hold that same kind of tension at any given point in the day, as if I am wearing armor against whatever stress I feel is attacking me.

And thus we come back to the belly.  I have begun to notice that I'm constantly gripping my abdominal muscles.  I'm constantly bracing for or against something.  I'm constantly ready to pounce at a moment's notice.  This is not a good way to live.  Not only is the tension an embodiment of the gripping I am doing throughout the day, I am now a walking example of the pain and dysfunction this can cause.  

Now here I should add a quick note for my dancer friends.  Obviously, we are trained to hold our abs in to support our posture.  This is still important.  What I have learned however is that once you're done dancing or working out, you need to release.  This is something that I was unconsciously not doing.  I never fully released and now I'm suffering the consequences (I'll be writing a future post detailing some specifics).

So now I scan my body.  Is my belly tight?  Are my shoulders by my ears?  Is my jaw clenched?  If the answer is yes, I immediately take a deep breath, then I exhale and release.  That simple gesture has been amazing.  It has certainly helped with my healing.  If I wasn't breathing and releasing, I don't think I would be making any advancement in my physical therapy.  In fact, a lot of what my physical therapist makes me do is breath work.

One great technique is Soft Belly Meditation.  Here is a You Tube link to a guided Soft Belly Meditation based on the instructions found in Stephen Levine's book, A Year to Live.  I hope you find this technique useful in alleviating your stress and/or pain.

I should let you know that I have heard the gamut of results from this exercise, from people who say the release made them cry to others who started laughing.  It is all ok.  It's about releasing that tension.

Let me know what you thought.  Do you notice yourself clenching unnecessarily?  What do you do to relax?

If you like this blog post and find it useful, please feel free to share it.


* This quote is from an excellent interview of Stephen Levine by Tami Simon of Sounds True:  http://www.soundstrue.com/store/weeklywisdom/?page=single&category=IATE&episode=2376

20 years ago this month, Flamenco beckoned and I answered the call.  I had been at UCLA for two quarters and was looking to take a dance class, any dance class.  I had danced daily during all four years of high school and had gone into UCLA thinking I would be a lawyer one day (yeah, really), so dance was not part of my scheduled curriculum.  

Of course, being the dancer I'd always been, I missed it terribly after only a few months of my new college life, so I grabbed the schedule of classes and decided I would look for a dance class I could take in the Spring quarter.  The only class that fit within the schedule of my required courses was "Introduction to Flamenco".  The rest, well, you know the rest...

On this anniversary, I lovingly look back on all of it.   The years of study, my time in Spain, magical moments, and embarrassing moments, relationships forged and relationships faded, my teaching experiences, my teachers, costumes made and costumes torn, food shared, late night bonding ridiculousness, one bad dressing room after another, repetitive dreams about missing shoes and dresses that don't fit, my knee injury, my toe injury, my eye injury, my former back injury, and my current back injury.  All of it.  

And all I can say is, I love and am grateful for this Flamenco life I have lived so far and I am also grateful for all of my teachers, my colleagues, my students, and all Flamencos everywhere for keeping such a beautiful tradition alive.  I'm looking forward to what's next for all of us.  ¡Ole!


If you're a fan of flamenco, feel free to share what you love about it down below.  If you just want to share something in life you're grateful for, I'd love to hear that too!


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The meditation center I go to has an annual intention-setting ceremony on New Year's Eve.  I haven't been to it yet because usually, I either have to work or I go to a family party.  However, last year one of the teachers held a daylong class in January where she held the same ceremony.

Basically, rather than listing New Year's Resolutions, we picked one word that described our intention for the year.  For me it was "welcome".  With my husband beginning his job in Chad near the end of 2013, we were barely turning the page to a new chapter in our life together.  Transitions are hard. This was the first time in our then 12 years of marriage (15 of being together) that we would be apart for a significant amount of time.  Due to extraneous circumstances, we essentially moved in together after only three months of dating, so you can imagine how this change has been shocking to us.  

Add to this that before now, I have never lived alone for an extensive amount of time.  Suddenly, not only is my husband far, far away, I am now fully confronted with what it is like to live with me.  There is no one else to direct my attention toward.  In the silence I hear all my thoughts, fears, hopes, desires, joy, and rage.  It is sometimes deafening.

Through my practice, and through Flamenco as well, I have come to learn how to be in the moment and accept what is, or at least to try.  So I decided to fully embrace it.  Hence, "welcome".  In 2014 I welcomed the new lifestyle, the new challenges and struggles it would create, but I also looked forward to the new opportunities.  One amazing opportunity was my visit to Chad: 
https://mercedesfinallymakesittochad.shutterfly.com/

However, over the last year, I had to learn that part of the practice of welcoming, is to welcome the unwelcome.  In July I was hit by a drunk driver and my new car needed tons of repair (luckily I manged to escape with just a bruise on my arm).  I also had to make the choice to leave behind some of my regular gigs because I felt they were not serving me, either financially or spiritually.  On my way to Chad, my original flight was canceled and my replacement flight left me stranded in Istanbul for two days.  Throughout all of it, I had to remember "welcome".

Now I am starting the new year with some physical complications that are due to a possible back injury.  I am still dancing, but I am now making the choice to only do work that serves my whole well-being.  In the meantime, I am also navigating a health insurance system that still wants me to jump hurdles to get the care I need.  Welcome.

It has not been easy.  I have been struggling the whole way, sometimes crying, sometimes ready to hit somebody, all the while wondering why I have to be so gracious. Yet, when I remind myself to welcome everything, there is a subtle peace that comes.

So in this process, I realize that in order to welcome anything new, I have to be able to let go, to stop resisting, to surrender.  So for 2015, my intention is to surrender.  

I remember more than a decade ago, in my early years as a Flamenco student, a more senior student once told me that the reason I was not getting a step was because I was afraid of it.  She told me, "just let go and do it".  So I did; I surrendered to the step and finally got it.  In that moment, I welcomed myself into a new understanding of my craft.

So now I surrender to my latest reality--to living two-thirds of the year alone, to dancing in fewer, more meaningful gigs while experiencing some pain, to growing.  In doing so, I hope I will truly make way to welcome whatever lies ahead.

I am often approached by people looking to hire my services for their special event, but not really knowing what they are looking for or what to expect. They are often surprised when they realize they are not just hiring me alone to dance.

When you want a live Flamenco dance performance at your event, at the very least you are hiring two performers: the dancer and a guitarist. This is the number one fact you must keep in mind when creating the budget for your event.

If the budget does not permit for two performers, a dancer with pre-recorded music can be found, but you must understand that this is no longer Flamenco. The beauty of Flamenco is the live conversation between musicians, partly choreographed, but partly improvised. No two performances are ever the same. This is the magic of our art form.

For a truly authentic Flamenco experience, you must also consider the importance of the singer, or Cantaór or Cantaora.  The cante, or song, comes first in Flamenco. The dancer interprets the letra, or lyrics, when she or he dances. For the discerning event planner who wants to create a truly genuine Flamenco show for their guests, the singer must also be accounted for in the budget. Sometimes you can find a guitarist who also sings, but this is not the norm. If you do find this guitarist, you should still expect to pay for his or her additional contribution.

Finally, for the legitimate cuadro, or group, you should consider at least one other dancer who not only adds to the dancing, but to the rhythmic dynamics of palmas, or percussive hand-clapping, and jaleos, shouts of encouragement. On top of this, for a truly rounded out performance, you can consider a cajonero or percussionist. 

The most important thing to note when allotting for these performers in your entertainment budget is that if they are professionals, they are experts in their art. They have years of schooling and training, including time lived in Spain. They spend several hours a week rehearsing by themselves and with each other. They spend time and money researching and studying the new and old of their craft. They also run themselves like businesses, spending hours upon hours writing and negotiating contracts, marketing their services, networking, and producing shows, music, videos, etc. They buy and maintain equipment like sound systems, portable dance floors, costumes, shoes, etc. Many are teachers as well, spending much of their time preparing and teaching classes, workshops, and demonstrations. All of these activities cost time, effort, and money.

So please consider the above when planning to hire Flamenco artists for your event. When you receive a quote, please consider that you are not just hiring a pretty girl or handsome man in a flashy costume to play a CD and dance around to it. You also are not just paying a dancer and a musician to simply play music and dance at your event. You are paying for their expertise, for those years of training, for their hours of work that goes unseen. Those hours of work directly benefit you in that they all come together to create the best possible performance at your event.

Because you are paying good money for a service, you also have every right to be discriminating. Please do your research and make sure you are hiring experts in their field and consummate professionals. Feel free to ask them about their training, their work history and ethic, their relationship to Flamenco. Expect them to be on time, friendly, and just as committed as you are to making sure you get a memorable performance at your special occasion. Just as dedicated artists deserve respect for their craft, you deserve the best your money can buy. Expect it.

In my next installment for this topic, I will explain the different styles of Flamenco shows you may be considering and what is best for your particular event.


If you liked this entry and found it useful, please share it. If you have any questions for me about planning your special event, please feel free to contact me.

"I mean, writing is my craft and my profession, but the real, central journey of my life...has been trying to figure out how to live well. Trying to figure out how to not succumb to darkness. Trying to figure out how to be a better friend to people. Trying to figure out how to find destiny and live it in a way that feels bold and important.

That’s kind of what I’m about. Writing is—I don’t want to diminish writing by saying it’s “just what I do,” but writing is my vocation. But I think I have a higher vocation that I respond to, which is living." --Elizabeth Gilbert, Author of Eat, Pray, Love and The Signature of All Things.

This quote was one of the first things Elizabeth Gilbert said during an interview with Tami Simon on the Insights at the Edge podcast*.  Once I heard it, I was hooked.  I knew I found the beginning of an answer to a years-long meditation.

I've been wrestling with the question of identity--identity as a human being who happens to be an artist.  I love my art.  I love being creative.  I love sharing my creativity and my passion for my chosen form of expression.  What I do not love, however, is the way of living that comes with an over-identification with the label of "Artist". 

I do not love living in the world of "Who is better?" or specifically in my profession, "Who is more 'Flamenco' or 'Flamenca'?".  I do not love living in the world where this question then leads to constant gossiping about our fellow artists in an attempt to prove that we are the one who is "more".  I do not love living in the world that it so over-identified with the "suffering artist" or "suffering Flamenco" stereotype, that we spend hours abusing alcohol, ourselves, and each other, in order to prove we belong or don't belong--whichever seems truer to our artistry at that given moment.

Now before you think that I am sitting here in judgement of my fellow artists, please know that I am including myself in this honest critique.  I have been just as guilty as anyone.  I too get wrapped up in this, "aren't I amazing and unique and original because I've chosen this niche art form that is so niche it's hard to make money, but that's okay because that just means I'm a truer artist and Flamenca?  Aren't I, aren't I, aren't I?"

They say the teacher teaches what she needs to learn.  I believe this is what is behind my writing.  I am writing about this because it is a struggle of mine.  I have spent the last few years working very hard on figuring out who I really am.  Through meditation, through reflection, through volunteering and even through my dancing and teaching of dance, I have been exploring what my life means if I am not "Flamenca" or not "an Artist" or not "Bohemian" or not "a Gypsy-in-spirit".

What if I were stripped of all these labels and I was just a human who happens to dance?

This is one of the scariest questions in my life.  I overcame so many obstacles in order to become a professional dancer.  I have done years of training.  I study various aspects of Flamenco and the Flamenco culture.  I have done and continue to do the work that gives me some modicum of credibility in my field.  I have dedicated so much of my life to Flamenco and dance itself that it seems crazy not to completely identify with it.

And there is nothing wrong with enjoying the accolades you receive when you have done all that work.  You should be proud of getting to a place that shows you've put in your time.  I have often had the joyful conversation with fellow artists that starts with "Remember when we didn't know anything?  Look how good we've gotten".  Those conversations are worthwhile.  Those conversations celebrate the process, not the labels.  Those conversations celebrate each other.

The problem comes when we lose touch with the process, when we lose touch with the time when we were just a curious dabbler, a beginner.  Do you remember the joy there was in discovering something new that was so amazing to you it piqued your curiosity and all you wanted to do was learn more?  Remember when all you did was enjoy your time learning and dreaming of when you'll be good at it?

In this same interview, Elizabeth Gilbert goes on to say that art is a place to process our pain, but that the process of creation itself shouldn't come from pain, but from joy.  She also says that the process comes from pain when an artist feels they have to suffer in order to create.  When art comes from a pained creative process, you're sharing that energy of pain with the world rather than sharing your love for your art.

In my experience, this is exactly what happens when we get caught up in the labeling and unnecessary competition.  We start to approach our art from a place of fear, resentment, frustration, and anger.  Doing the thing you love suddenly becomes a chore, even an annoyance. 

We often get confused, thinking that Flamenco makes room for the dark emotions.  After all, the mother of all the rhythms is the Solea, or the dance about loneliness, but that is not what I am talking about. 

I am the first to say that I prefer the jondo in Flamenco, the songs about sadness and anger.  However, when I create my solos or when I go to my shows, I always set the intention that I am channeling these feelings in order to tap into something greater.  I hope that I am stepping into some divine stream of consciousness where I can communicate the universality of my feelings with anyone who is watching because I know they feel this way too.  And I hope that together, audience and I, can find some resolution.  However, I'm also aware that this may not happen.  I could come to the most amazing resolution and an audience member can simply arrive at, "well, isn't that pretty?".

I love to remember this because ultimately, I am no more special than the non-dancer audience member who is watching me.  For all I know, they save lives.

So again I come to that question of identity.  There was a time when we weren't the professional artist we have come to be.  Who is that person?  The sister, the brother, the daughter, the son, the friend.  The audience member.  Who is the person beyond even those labels?  Who are you...really?

Yes, these questions are scary, but when you really think about them, there is so much freedom to be found.  There is the freedom to do what you love, simply for the sake of doing what you love.  There is the freedom to choose who you will work with, where you will work, and how you will work--the freedom to create healthy boundaries and relationships.  The freedom to create art from a place that heals you and others.

Finally, Elizabeth Gilbert quotes Tom Waits as saying that when he starts to take himself too seriously he reminds himself that as a songwriter he is simply making "jewelry for peoples' minds".  Nothing more, nothing less.  It is beautiful, yes, but it is adornment.  We artists make life more interesting and we do fill a necessary role, but we are not above and beyond anyone else.

While doing my hospice work, I always remind myself, "This will be you one day".  One day, I will not be able to dance.  In fact, that could even be tomorrow.  So then, why take my "Artist" self so seriously?

Instead, I would rather do what Gilbert says in the quote at the beginning; I'd rather "figure out how to be a better friend", daughter, sister, wife, aunt, teacher.  Even more than that, I want to figure out this human business.  And while I can, I'll do it all while dancing.

*If you identify with any of what I'm saying, I highly recommend listening to this interview:  http://www.soundstrue.com/weeklywisdom/?source=podcast&p=9535&category=IATE&version=full

Back in August, I wrote an entry called, Our Life's Dance, where I talked about following our life's calling or passion.  I was inspired by this quote by Gabrielle Bernstein: "Don't dance around the perimeter of you want to be; dive in fully."  As promised in that original entry, I want to talk about how this quote is not only a dance metaphor for life, but it can be applied to dance as well. 

Over the years I have learned that it is not enough to memorize steps, have perfect formations, and make sure all your angles are correct.  Although it is of utmost importance to spend years honing your skills and making sure your technique is clean and strong, all the impeccable technique is still not enough if you do not deliver yourself in your performance.  To me, delivering yourself means that you should reach down deep inside, pull out your most raw sorrow, anger, joy, love, gratitude, fear, elation, EMOTION, and channel it.  You must embody that emotion and let the emotion guide you in your dance.  You must engage with it, letting the feeling become a partner.

In Flamenco dance, this is especially important.  Most of the time we are soloists, doing 10 to 15-minute long numbers that tell a story, complete with a trajectory, a climax, and a resolution.  Imagine how lackluster a solo of this length would be, if the dancer danced the entire number only in their head, completely focused only on technical execution and not on any sense of connection.  There should be a decision to connect--with the audience, with the musicians, with our fellow dancers, and with our deepest self.  Once you're onstage, you have to give yourself over to that connection and answer a question:  who are you?  This is point of it all.  This is what the audience wants to know. 

When you let yourself go and "dive fully" into the dance, this question starts to get answered, both for the audience and for yourself.  There is a complete catharsis that comes when you've abandoned your ego, the mind full of planning and "shoulds and you let your true self speak through the dance.  You know when the catharsis has happened.  You know when you're both exhilarated and exhausted at the same time.  There is a deep joy, a sense of knowing.  You often get that catharsis mirrored to you by audience members, through tears, through them relaying to you what they thought your story was.  It may not be what you thought to express before you got started, but once you hear it, you think, "yes".  There is a universal truth that was delivered.

This complete surrender when you dance, is what makes people fall in love with the art form.  I believe this is true for any art form as well as in life.  People are drawn to the universal truths they see reflected in each other.  After the years of necessary study and rehearsal, when it's time to perform, please do the world and your art a favor and just let us see the real you.  You should be center-stage, not on the perimeter, dancing around the ego's idea of what it "should" look like.

Below is one of my favorite videos of  Juana Amaya, "diving in fully".  Enjoy and feel free to let me know what you think.

Before I even really knew what Flamenco was, I knew the name Paco de Lucia.  He is considered one of the greatest Flamenco guitarists (arguably one of the greatest guitarists all around) and many of my generation of guitarists credit him with being the reason they dedicated themselves to Flamenco guitar.


One of the beautiful things about Paco as a person, was that he chose to honor his mother by choosing the stage name, de Lucia.  He was born, Francisco Sanchez Gomez, in 1947.  His mother was Lucia Gomez and his father was Antonio Sanchez, a laborer and a guitarist himself.  If you want a more detailed biography of Paco, please visit his website: www.pacodelucia.com

What can I say about Paco?  He was a virtuoso, but his playing went beyond technique.  It was amazing technique perfectly fused with soul.  This combination, and his willingness to explore new terrain, while staying true to his Flamenco roots, were what enabled him to take Flamenco to the world.  He has given so much to the world of music, though his collaborations with international artists, and he is also credited with bringing the world back to Flamenco.  One of the biggest examples of this is when he and his Brazilian percussionist, Rubem Dantas, brought back and adapted the Peruvian cajon to Flamenco.  This box-like drum is now a fixture in most Flamenco shows, so much so, that newbies are always surprised when they find out how recently it was introduced into our art form.

For me personally, because I love cante so much, some of his greatest collaborations were with the legendary singer, Camaron de la Isla.  Together they brought Flamenco to new heights and to the world, including me.  I am forever grateful. 

Paco passed away from a heart attack last month, on February 26th, 2014.  His heart stopped and the hearts of all other Flamencos broke that day. 

We will miss him greatly, but his music lives on.  Below are some clips for you to enjoy.  Have a beautiful day, surrounded in music.