Tango.
True, that’s the dance from Buenos Aires, Argentina. But it took a Brazilian to reveal what tango was all about. So when a friend invited me to study with this tango teacher in Rio de Janeiro, it was a heck yeah! We stayed for three weeks taking lessons during the day and dancing at night. To prepare for the trip I listened to Português language tapes and tried to learn samba. Oddly, the trouble I was having with the language was the difficulty I was having in samba. I had no clue where the beginning of words, steps started nor where they finished. It just seemed to be a continuous flow. What I learned over ten years ago still holds true today. Brazil has no edges. It’s circuitous. Going from point A to point B can take all day.
I didn’t want to leave.
Now I spend most of my time in Salvador, Bahia, Brazil. Each trip holds the potential for magic. This last trip was no exception. It was on the last day that I was able to visit the studio of the artist Carybe. He was a painter, engraver, illustrator, sculptor, mural painter, researcher, historian and journalist. He died in 1997 a well known and beloved man.
His home and studio aren’t open to the public; yet through the generosity of a friend we were able to schedule a visit. Carybe’s grandson would meet us at the gate and give us a tour. And this was the gift. The magic. To enter the studio of someone I greatly admire was sacred. The family had left everything just as Carybe left it. I know the photo of Carybe sitting at his work table, surrounded by his many collections, books and paintings. And here I was in that picture feeling the energy of his life.
Once again, I didn’t want to leave.
XOXO,
Francesca
