Flamenco Love

Just over 10 years ago I took Flamenco dancing lessons while studying abroad in Granada, Spain.  I still have my Flamenco shoes in my closet eternally waiting for Flamenco lessons to become available in London, ON, Canada.  It’s been a long wait that continues.  Last night I was able to attend a Flamenco show put on my 4 musicians and dancers who study Flamenco in Sevilla, Spain.  This was my husband’s first time seeing such a spectacle and a great prelude to what he’ll see when we go back to visit Granada in August.   The event was very small; I counted a maximum 50 people.  It was a powerful and intimate performance.  At intermission my husband turned to me with “What do you think?” and I must admit it was great, but after living in Granada (the birthplace of Flamenco) and seeing real gypsies and Flamenco artists perform with the Alhambra in the background – I’ve been pretty spoiled.  Last night I was reminded of my love for Flamenco and the got the push to start planning my August vacation to Italy, Spain, and Austria.



This women was the tallest and most blonde Flamenco dance I have ever see.  It was impossible to take in her movement with my glance.



I could not stop staring at the guitarists shoes.  They were black healed Flamenco shoes.  Like this:


They were perfectly worn in, scuffed, and reinforced and looked like they had been dance through and stomped millions of nights.  I may need to investigate this more.


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