September, 2001 (after September 11)

We arrived here in our beautiful, beloved Sevilla on the third of September. Concha Vargas, my Gypsy Flamenco dance teacher and dear friend and her husband, tall gray haired, handsome Rafael met us at the airport. Carlos Heredia, Freddie’s Gypsy Flamenco guitar teacher, his straight black hair even longer this year, was there waiting too. How nice it is to have friends to welcome you when you finally emerge from the airplane after those sleepless days of exhausting travel. Because Freddie’s foot was broken, he had used wheel chairs in every airport, but he still walked slowly, balancing on his crutches and trying not to hurt the shoulder he had had rotator cuff surgery on last year. Concha and I had not seen each other since the day, three weeks earlier, that we had seen her off at the San Francisco airport to return to Sevilla from her two month stay at our home in Santa Cruz, California. Now in the Sevilla airport together we skipped, arm in arm, in happiness to see each other again. Concha’s bushy black curly hair was loose around her round moon face and her big smile reflected the warmth of her soul that I love so much. She was wearing, as was I, the clothes we bought together at Ross Dress for Less in California. We wore the same shoes, our comfortable black Aerosole slip ons also from Ross. My Spanish Flamenco sister. After collecting our baggage, which arrived safely, we all went to La Carboneria, the nightclub and home of Paco Lira, where Freddie and I stay when we are in Sevilla. This is our third year here together. Even before we arrived in Sevilla, I had a bad cold which I had picked up on the airplane to San Diego, where we stayed before flying on to Spain. In San Diego we spent a few days visiting Freddie’s daughter Maggie and her family and then attending Basilio and Pilar’s three day Flamenco party. By the time we were on the airplane to Sevilla, my nose was running constantly and I was coughing up continuous phlegm. I had no energy. I had not even felt like dancing since the first day of Basilio’s party. I was so sick by the time we reached Sevilla that I did not begin to write until after the I heard the news of the shocking attacks on the World Trade Center in New York and the Pentagon in Washington on September 11, 2001.

I journeyed (for more explanation of the Shamanic journey, please see writing on my web site) after I heard the news. It was late afternoon here in Sevilla and it had just happened. I was planning on napping, but as I came down the stairs from our room to use the bathroom first, everyone asked us if we had heard the news. I called to Freddie and we went into Paco’s room to watch the news in Spanish. And we couldn’t believe it, but we kept seeing it on the television, like a bad science fiction movie, only it was real. After calling my son in Hamilton, New York (Colgate University) and my sister in Palo Alto from Paco’s phone, I went back upstairs and journeyed for all the people who had died or/and were in pain. I spent the whole time with my soul retrieval power animal directing lost/stunned/bewildered souls to the light. There was such chaos at so many suddenly and traumatically leaving their bodies. Every time I would get distracted my power animal would bring me back saying, “Help them to the light”. There were so many. I felt like a traffic director.

My e-mail shamanic journey group has scheduled a group journey (non-ordinary reality) on Saturday but I might miss it because I’ll be at the Jerez Fiesta de Bulera (Spain). But I might journey on Friday, although I am nine hours ahead of California here in Sevilla. Or, perhaps I will do it on Sunday which would be Saturday night over there. What a shocking situation. I am hearing most of it in Spanish. That’s all the news that’s been on TV. There are two US military bases here in Spain, both in Southern Spain, in the small towns of Rota and Moron (famous for its Flamenco in the 60’s and being the home of Diego del Gastor, an incredible guitarist whose legacy still lives on long after his death.) Both these small Spanish towns are now on red alert and no one can enter or leave the US bases there. The people here are in shock and of course also fear a world war. It’s still hard to believe, except that we are continually seeing video of the planes crashing into the world trade center and their aftermath on the news. My e-mail, which is finally hooked up and ready, is now filled with messages dealing with this tragedy. I have forwarded a Seven days of prayer article on how we have to try to change the world with our positive thoughts to many people because I just read it and I felt that it had helped focus me and would help others. Later I forwarded a moving piece written by an Afghani American man. This letter talked of the innocent Afghani’s who would be killed if Bush bombs them. But the culprits who did this would probably escape. He claims that the only way to get them is through a ground war, but this would probably start a war with Pakistan leading to a world war which is what Bin Laden wants. Apparently Bin Laden thinks he will win and it is his holy war. Ah Nostradamas.

September 18, 2001

I journeyed again for help as part of our e-mail group journey Sunday night Spain time, which is Sunday morning US time. I didn’t see anyone from our group, although I expected to see my whole journey group there as usual. The spirits told me that I had already made this journey and that I (or my path) was different from the others! They pointed out that most of my group members had continued their shamanic training while the spirits have directed me into dance and doing shamanic healings. They said that I should continue to do shamanic healings (I have already done three here in Spain where I have been since Sept. 4). They also re-emphasized that my other way to help the world is to dance, and that is my path. I am not sure what this means in terms of doing group journeys. But one thing I gained or re-gained, is a sense of positive energy. I had been getting drawn into negative, traumatic feelings and situations lately (since the attacks) and I saw that this was a microcosm of what is happening in the world. If we can’t get out of it on a personal level, how can we expect the governments to get beyond it? After this journey, I was able to focus again on the positive, which I think is essential at this time. I feel lighter myself. Of course, I still feel the pain for all the tragedy and those still suffering and I still journey and pray for them. But something has changed inside me and I find myself filled with light instead of the darkness of pain and suffering. My pain does not help the world, but my joy may help the world. Hopefully I can help to spread feelings of joy and happiness and love in a world which badly needs that. We all have very important parts to play in this life at this time. May the spirits give us the strength and the sight to do it well.

I understand that there is fear in the world now and that many people want to de-escalate that fear and to focus on peace. I agree with that. When I sent my sister suggestions of an antibiotic to buy and keep in case of germ warfare, she wrote that she wished I hadn’t sent it because she felt it fostered fear. I agree with my sister that we should not foster fear. Nevertheless, I think we should all put this in our medicine cabinets just in case, because it is easy to do and if germ warfare does happen, we will be prepared. Hopefully mankind will not be that stupid and mean. But obtaining the medicine now is like earthquake preparation or vaccinations. Hopefully we will never have to use it. I don’t really know what is happening in the US in terms of mass psyche. Of course, I do not trust Bush one bit, and he could fall into the trap of war easily, but hopefully he won’t. I am trying to send out all my positivity and not get sucked in by negativity, especially in these trying times.

September 18, 2001

I am feeling better (I had a bad cold for 3 weeks and didn’t feel like writing). I will start chronicling soon, so be prepared. Freddie and I both love Spain and Sevilla and are so glad to be back here. We have already had two all nighters and a number of times when we got to bed at 5 and 6 AM so we are tired too. It’s harder to do, the older you get.

We went to the Feria de Utrera with Concha and her husband Rafael and Rubina and we saw Miguel Funi dance. This is a town fair where the there are rows of Casetas, brightly decorated, open tents making a little town with dirt roads and brightly colored lights. Inside they serve food and drink and sometimes present shows. They are sponsored by both private people (the very rich) and organizations. There are photos of the ferias of Jerez and Sanlucar on our web site in the Spain photos in 1999. On September 15 went to the Fiesta de Bulera in Jerez with the same people. This fiesta took place in the bull ring and had non-stop Flamenco until the hours of the morning before the sun came up. It was only OK. Both events were all nighters (no sleep) and so we are still tired. The electricity just went off here as I write, so I have to check on it.

September 19, 2001

Sevilla is beautiful as always and Freddie and I are delighted to walk again down these cobbled winding streets of Sevilla. Of course, Freddie hasn’t walked a lot because he broke his foot in a car accident in California. He arrived on crutches, using wheel chairs at the airport. Here at last, Freddie managed to make it up the steep narrow stairs to our wonderful white room with it’s bright blue window trim and two forest green metal braces at the top of La Carboneria. Carmen, our friend, a Gypsy from Moron, who cleans here and sings Tangos, had completely painted both our room and the bathroom before our arrival. The blue and white square tiled floor was clean and we had new sheets for the bed. We are always made to feel so welcome here. There is such kindness. Paco lent Freddie his crutch cane and took us to his acupuncturist, his friend Jesus. And Jesus has worked miracles. Freddie had another x-ray which shows that his bone is growing together correctly. Jesus gave him fresh aloe to put on the foot with a bandage at night. Yesterday Jesus told him he didn’t need the bandage again unless it hurt. Freddie will have his back treated next. He has been able to greatly decrease his pain pills already. Jesus is an exceptional acupuncturist aside from being Paco’s friend. We got to know him last year here. There is a picture of him on our web site at our 2000 despedida party. As I wrote before, I was already sick when we arrived in Spain. Then my voice gave out and I could hardly speak. I had a headache and indigestion and no energy. I didn’t feel like writing and I hardly felt like dancing, although I did start my classes with Concha up again. The first time that Freddie and I went to acupuncture here, to Jesus, my nose and throat cleared up a little. Then I had mucous that kept coming up and out both through my coughing and my nose. The next acupuncture visit has seemed to clear that up and my energy is beginning to increase. I am finally writing tonight.

September 22, 2001

This year I am having a more difficult time finding the space to write. Perhaps taking two classes a day and trying to study my classes is what is using up my time. But, I am polishing a beautiful Solea and I love it. It rained here yesterday, big droplets coming in through the roof, buckets in our room and on the stairs, no one able to sit in the outside cafes that sprinkle the streets of Sevilla. I pulled out the boots I had bought here last year and the raincoats that we thought we wouldn’t need and we walked in the refreshing rain to El Cordobes for dinner. We were lucky to get a table, because of course we couldn’t sit outside. We eat there almost every day and one the waiters, a 29 year old father of two, Jose, is practicing his English on us. We call him our son and he calls us “Familia”. The waiters have our tastes memorized and tell us our order as we sit down. Today the sky is blue with white cotton like clouds drifting in the breeze. Saturday. I hear a church bell ringing. Someone is practicing downstairs. Rubina will come over a little later to practice with Freddie and me. I discovered that we can send e-mail to and from our movi’s, but there is a 120 character limit. For emergency contacts, this is great. I can send e-mail to Concha and Rubina’s movi’s too, but they have to learn how access their written messages. The writing on Concha’s movi is too small for me to read!

Concha’s brother is in the hospital with heart problems and apparently he has taken a turn for the worse today. She is very concerned and is at the hospital with him now as I write.

We have decided not to buy our piso in Sanlucar because of the money situation at home, the market being down and the exchange rate here falling for us. Things seem just too uncertain to make that kind of a commitment now. We went to look at the half finished building last Saturday before we went to the Festival de Bulera in Jerez. It would have been nice to have a piso next to Concha and Rafael, but the world situation and our economic uncertainty is making us think twice about spending money. We would both rather spend it on classes.

September 24, 2001

I am trying to find the time to write about things. I have started but not finished. Freddie and I are both taking lessons but we too feel traumatized by the recent world events. Nothing is the same. Not only is there all the death and suffering and pain and fear of world war, etc., but on a personal note, we do not know about our financial situation due to the stock market falling. I hope it doesn’t make it hard to keep our house, hopefully it won’t. I have no idea how much money I now have. Our future seems uncertain on so many levels. But I can’t waste time worrying. So we are just trying to keep our spending way down and to enjoy our life here. (The dollar has fallen here so everything is more expensive).We canceled the piso (apartment) we were going to buy in Sanlucar. There is nothing we can do at the moment, so why panic? It’s just that these thoughts are there in the back of my mind. But I feel calm and am not really worried right now.

We are thinking about where we want to spend the war, if it comes to that. I will journey on it. At the moment, Freddie wants to come home. His mother Bea and my father Jack are both eighty two years old and that would be the draw to come home. We don’t want to be trapped somewhere due to war, so we have to think it through. I don’t want to cut our trip short, but that comes from emotion, not from thought. We are facing the fact that we might be involved in a real war very soon and we have to do some thinking about it. How awful. I am worried about our home in California because if we lose electricity, we lose the ability to pump water from our well and therefore have no water. So far, solar energy for this has proved extremely expensive (about $100,000 for an adequate system). Just thoughts. Here is certainly history in the making.

September 26, 2001

I will be writing more soon. I have started. I am taking two private classes per day with now a daily group technique class just added. The two private classes were in anticipation of Concha leaving in October for her American tour with Antonio el Pipa. But now she says she doesn’t want to go. She is scared to fly right now and scared to be in the United States. She is also concerned about her brother who is in the hospital. She is very close to him. Concha told me that her oldest son, 19 year old Quintin, was down on his knees crying and begging her not to go to America. With this type of reaction from her family, I think she will stay here. We receive constant e-mails about the current world events. I don’t remember if I forwarded the story of someone on one of the first of the resumed airplane flights. It was moving. The passengers and crew reacted as a temporary family and set their own rules for safety on the airplane. An air of alert informality prevailed, a unity and declaration of support for one another. But I also hear that there is no upgraded security at the airports, and some people report that there is less than before, which is somehow hard to believe. But we heard from someone who flew from London to Spain (I don’t know whether to Sevilla or Madrid) that there was less security than before. And our friend Richard Black, who flew from SF to Madrid said the same thing. Strange.

September 29, 2001

The fear of immediate war seems to have subsided. Paco, who reads the newspapers and listens to the news religiously, and has almost 80 years of life experience, doesn’t think we will have a world war right now. We have stopped thinking that we will have to cut our trip short. We are still not sure if Concha will go to the US or not next month. So at the moment I am taking three classes a day from her, two privates and the small group technique class which is helping a lot. I went to the dentist for my tooth ache. She took x-rays and discovered a small infection so I took four days of antibiotics and I feel a lot better. That seemed to knock out my cold too and my energy returned.

But, since I have stepped up my classes, my legs have gotten tired. Where I used to bound up the stairs to our room, even when I was sick, now, as I remember doing last year and the year before, I sometimes have to pull myself up because I thighs are rebelling. I am becoming very emotional again, as I also did last year. Last year I thought it was menopause hormone reactions returning. Now I wonder if it is just such an overwhelming amount of new information I am taking in at all levels. I am trying too hard and then I see a video of myself and get discouraged. Although, the video of yesterday’s classes actually looked good. There is pouring rain and thunder outside as I sit here writing this Saturday morning. There are no classes this weekend because Concha’s brother Rafael is still in the hospital, probably dying. Upon request, I did a journey for him last week and he stabilized. I saw how much he did not want to die, this young man of forty eight years. But I think he is dying. Concha says he is medicated and swollen. I saw the bright light and Concha’s father standing there waiting for him. Before I journeyed he was thrashing around. I saw in the journey that it was his way of fighting death. But the doctors were afraid that he would bring on a heart attack and so he is very medicated. Concha had to drag his wife Frackie home to her house to sleep after she stayed six days without sleeping in the hospital. The family will spend the weekend again in the hospital. Freddie and I have been practicing with Rubina a lot. She is a good influence and gets me downstairs and onto the stage. She is very supportive and encouraging. She herself is dancing better and better. She performs here at La Carboneria three nights a week and the audience loves her. She is in Concha’s technique class with me.

Yesterday evening Rubina and I went shopping. Calle Sierpes, the fancy car-less shopping street in the middle of Sevilla, is all dirt right now, with a deep hole running down the middle. They are doing construction, probably sewers, and it looks like something out of the old west. Many of the connecting side streets are also dug up dirt right now, with planks for people to cross the street to the other stores and thin dirt paths along each side of the hole which runs down the middle of the street. Calle Sierpes certainly doesn’t look as fancy right now as it used to, but in the evenings, it is still filled with people strolling and shopping. It is always very festive on the streets of Sevilla during the evening shopping hours. Stores re-open, after the siesta time, at five or six o’clock and close again between eight thirty and nine. Just before nine we went to Corte Ingles, the big, famous department store in Plaza Duque and I bought a non-electric portable water purifier. When we left the store, the rain had started pouring again so we looked for a taxi. In a moment of optimism in spite of the warm humidity, Rubina hadn’t taken her rain coat. We were lucky and found a taxi fairly quickly, but it took a long time to get home, because rain at nine in Spain in the evening means rush hour and the traffic hardly moved. We finally had to get out near La Carboneria and walk because we were tired of sitting in the taxi and going nowhere.

September 30, 2001 - La Familia de La Carboneria

Today is the last day of September. It is still raining and wintry outside. But I hear a bird as I write, a twittering telling me that really it is still fall.

I have wanted to write more of the people here. These are the people of Paco’s world, the people who live or have lived at La Carboneria, the people who work at the Carboneria, the people who live and work in Sevilla. The other night Alexi, who just returned from a trip home to Italy, was playing the violin with Carlos’ group. The musical interaction between the Alexi and Carlos was intense and exciting. Alexi’s maroon velevet coat flaired out above his white shirt like a symbol of his musical abandon. I watched his thin face outlined with his brown red beard and long stringy hair pulled back showing the small gold earring in his right ear, and I thought about the novels I have read in my life describing artists of other generations. I want to describe the artists of this generation, this wonderful and exciting time period that will someday be history. The characters who play their parts in today deserve to be immortalized as did, for example, the characters described by Henry Miller and Anais Nin. XParis in the thirties, Sevilla in the 2000’s —the artists continue through the generations. And so Alexi caught my imagination and linked these generations for me. The passion on Alexi’s face when he leans into his violin looks almost religious. His long fingers seem to pray as they dance from string to string, his bow crying and singing the music with the smoothness of wind, the wind from the heavens, fast or slow, intensity changing, but always flowing from its supernatural source. I wrote about Alexi the Italian last year too. He lives with Elisabeth from the midwest USA and they had our upstairs room here last year. They have just found their own apartment now in Sevilla that they will share with Alexi’s mother and her boyfriend. His mother is a painter and Concha has one of her paintings in her apartment. The painting is of a group of musicians, one of which is Alexi. I think Alexi looks a little like Christ in it, as he does when he plays his violin. Although, there are times when he plays that the music brings a beautiful smile of ecstasy that I don’t associate with Christ, but it is definitely a spiritual reaction to the music. Christine, Ryan’s girlfriend, told me that Alexi grew up in a tiny village overlooking the sea in Italy. He dreamed of musical instruments and as a child would pretend he was playing them. He had the soul of a musician and fortunately it is realized.

Christine told me she has had long, wonderful talks with Alexi when they were both living at La Carboneria. I first heard about Christine last year when Ryan was telling us about this wonderful woman he had met here and who was waiting for him in San Francisco. Ryan is a young American Flamenco guitarist who had studied first with Chris Carnes (see our memorial to Chris Carnes on our web site). He has come to La Carboneria to stay many different times. I wrote about him last year. Like us, he studies and practices his music all the time. Here he studies guitar with Juan del Gastor, a nephew of the famous and immortalized guitar master Diego del Gastor of Moron. Last year when we were here, Ryan went off to San Francisco to see if Christine really was the love of his life. Freddie and I grilled him like parents on “right” relationships, saying, “If your music gets better then it is good, but if you play less music or it gets worse, get out of the relationship”. And Ryan listened to us and remembered. And of course his music got better and he and Christine sold everything they owned and returned to Spain and La Carboneria for at least a year. And so we finally met Christine. Her tall, slender body and straight brown hair and pretty face give her a look of innocence. Her subtle nose ring and her belly button ring link her to the younger generation. She is thirty, a little older than Ryan. Before she met Ryan, she had been living in Tokyo for a year painting and writing. That summer Christine and her sister had decided to travel through Europe and in a wonderful story that Christine needs to write, she was led to meet Ryan at the Carmela Alta Mira cafe where we always have coffee. She saw a bright aura surrounding Ryan and the thought came to her that this would be her husband! She and Ryan hit it off and he brought her to La Carboneria to hear Flamenco and of course he played guitar for her. She said she was also attracted to how handsome he was, his dark, curly hair and face so neatly cared for, his body slim and fit. And then they shared a common spirituality together as well. When I met Christine I felt as if Freddie and I had already known her for years. And to us, she seems perfect for Ryan. It is wonderful to see the younger generation carrying on the Bohemian, artist life style. It makes me understand Paco’s visitors even more. Paco is almost eighty and is like us. Christine and Ryan are much younger and they are like us. There is a feeling of continuation here, the immortality of the generations continuing, (as long as we don’t blow up the entire world). In the days on the patio I see Ryan practicing his guitar and Christine, with her lap top computer like mine, sitting next to him writing. She has already learned good Flamenco palmas and is poised to start dancing. But she has the feeling that she will be hooked, and so is trying to finish some writing and painting projects before she dives into the dance. I have a feeling that she will be very good.

September 30, 2001

Rubina and Freddie and I practiced almost all day today. Yesterday Rubina was here dancing and singing nine hours and Freddie and I joined her for seven of them. I love the week ends here this time, because there are no classes and the stage is free and I can practice as much as I want. And it is fun to work with Rubina. We have different strong points and we are able to help each other a lot. And, we have a lot of fun together. A new addition to the Carboneria family is Marta, a young, blond and pretty twenty two year old girl from Poland who just came this week and is here to study Flamenco. Marta joins Rubina in the mornings before I come down and Rubina practices her teaching techniques on Marta. Rubina’s dancing has become so strong. And when she performs now she is finally dancing her self and smiling and her wonderful personality is shining through. It takes her dance to a new level. Her time in Spain shows. She is getting better and better. I have been doing Sevillanas with her at the end of each of her shows with Alfonso the singer and Antonio the guitar player. People are very enthusiastic about it. Alfonso calls me up onto the stage and introduces me first. We have fun. Rubina has been practicing her singing with Freddie. Of course, people wander through and Paco always knows what goes on. He sees and hears us practicing. Today he suggested that Rubina sing here at La Carboneria. She is a bit reluctant be we will see. She has so much respect for the Spanish singers that she doesn’t want to sing here, but if Paco wants her to I think she will. The audience here loves her dancing and she always gets a tremendous applause.

Richard Black, here from Santa Cruz for two weeks and Bobby “El Poni”, another friend who has been living in Jerez this last year, came to visit today with two visitors from New Zealand who Richard met from the Flamenco List. It was nice to see our two old friends from Santa Cruz here in Spain and to meet their new friends. We visited with Bobby here last year too when he was living in Sevilla. Photos are on the web site in Spain 2000.

October 2, 2001

Ryan and Christine came back from Tarifa tonight, where they have been staying for several days. They needed a vacation from the busy-ness of La Carboneria to think about this world situation. We missed them. Becca, a young Belly Dancer Music Camp friend of ours from California arrived in Sevilla last night to study Flamenco. This morning we helped her find a cheap hostel to stay in. She had spent her first night in one three times as expensive, farther away, and not as nice. And the Armenians from New York arrived. Their dancer is coming tomorrow. They will all stay here at La Carboneria. They plan to be performing six nights a week here for a month. I had met Souren the clarinet player once at a Middle Eastern camp in Mendocino. They have been coming every year for ten years, except for missing last year. I remember Paco talking about them to us before I could understand him as well as I can now. We certainly have a full house, but at least the people are artists and are interesting.

I haven’t yet described Francois the tall, blond French German who plays beautiful classical guitar in the patio garden, or Pola who sings Pedro Bacan Lebrija Flamenco style Romances and like to cook. He might be cooking for us and Paco and Marta up on our verandah. He cooked a beautiful meal today for lunch down on the patio.

October 4, 2001

Yesterday and today Concha has worked with me on body posture and style in a new way and my dance has changed dramatically. She says this is only the beginning. I have wanted this for years and she said that she was also “loca” to work on this and that it is finally time. First I had to work on my comps and footwork and get the coordination of the choreography. Now I am finally working on the stuff I have seen in my videos but could not figure out how to change myself. I stayed up until 4 AM last night watching the video from my 8 PM class and finally I went to bed ecstatic. What a switch from the discouragement I have been feeling at seeing my dancing look like that of a stick figure, an old woman trying to move. Now it looks like my dreams … hopefully I can take this in and keep it forever!!!!

October 7, 2001 Sunday

Concha’s brother died Friday morning. Carmen who cleans here and sings, and who is also a friend of Concha’s, came up to our room Friday morning to relay the news. Rafael had just called the Carboneria downstairs to leave the message. Of course class was canceled. Without a class to prepare for and take, we ended up going to Rubina’s for an American breakfast of bacon and eggs and then Rubina and I walked to the bus station to buy our tickets for Sanlucar for Saturday morning. Freddie had a two hour guitar lesson with Carlos. As Rubina and I arrived back at the Carboneria patio through the side door from Calle Cespedes, students who had showed up for class were milling around, having just been told of the death of Concha’s brother. Someone told us to call Concha, that she wanted us to go to the hospital and that someone would come to take us. I ran upstairs to tell Freddie and to change my clothes. We ended up going with Carlos and Pola and Naoko, in Carlos’ car. (Naoko is a student of Concha’s from Japan who has been here for more than a year studying with Concha. I remember her from last year. She got very very good and Concha is very proud of her). Rubina and Juana took a taxi because there was not enough room in Carlos’ car for all of us. I discovered that it is the custom here (for all but the very rich), that the family is given rooms in the hospital’s mortuary to grieve in. People come here to pay their respects, to offer their love to the bereaved. We found Concha in one of the small, plain rooms, sitting on a chair smoking and looking devastated. We sat with her and talked with her and held her. All of our group left after a short time but Freddie and I stayed for several hours. Other people came and went. The widow, Concha’s sister-in-law, came in, sat, and smoked. She was almost expressionless. She had been at her husband’s side in the hospital for the last two weeks, sleeping and eating very little. Now she seems in total shock. She is only thirty. Her eleven year old daughter, Conchita (named after Concha) asked to see her father (his body). The adults debated and I urged them to let her if she wanted to. Because of my psychological training, they listened to me. Conchita said afterwards that she felt completed by doing that, by seeing her father’s body one last time. She seems very mature for eleven.

The funeral was the next day in Lebrija. We did not go because we were in Sanlucar and also because I think the funeral was a more family affair. It was about saying good bye to the brother. At the hospital we were there to support Concha. And we did. That Friday night we did not attend any of the dancing at la Carboneria. We were drained and we knew that we had to get up early the next day to catch the bus at ten AM at the bus station. Very early (by our standards) Saturday morning Freddie, Rubina, and I took the bus in the pouring rain to Sanlucar to get our deposits back from the piso we decided not to buy because of the world situation. The realtor, Paco Ibaez, met us at the bus station when we called on our movi to tell him we had arrived. We signed the release papers and picked up our waiting checks. We were lucky and grateful to get our money back. After completing our business, we briefly explored Sanlucar, stepping between large puddles of rain on the uneven streets, wet and tired, as the stores were closing for siesta and the rest of the weekend. We stopped for coffee to rest Freddie’s foot. Then we continued on, by bus, to Jerez, a half hour away. There we visited our old friend from Santa Cruz, Bobby “el Poni”, who has been living in Jerez, studying guitar, singing and dancing all year. That evening we went to a Pea there (a community Flamenco club) where we saw Chocolate sing to the guitar of Antonio Carrion. Chocolate, his small brown gypsy face now creased with wrinkles, is a famous and wonderful singer from Jerez. He is now in his seventies but he still sings beautifully and movingly, although his voice has lost some of its earlier strength. He was a treat to listen to and Antonio Carrion accompanied him beautifully and sensitively. Chocolate sang soulful Siguiriyas and I enjoyed him even more this time than I did when we heard him at the Flamenco Bienal here last year. We spent the night at a small, somewhat dirty Hostel near Bobby’s house. The next morning the sun came out and we walked around Jerez and had coffee and ate lunch before catching the two thirty bus back to Sevilla. We arrived back at La Carboneria at four PM Sunday and rested for a while. Rubina borrowed a pair of Freddie’s shorts and went out on our balcony to sun bathe. I tried to sleep. Freddie practiced guitar. That night on our way out to dinner, we stopped to see Paco who was in his room, as we usually do when he is upstairs. While saying hello to Paco, who is still in bed with a bad cold, we heard news of the bombings. He was watching it on his television. As I have said before, Paco is always up on the news. He watches it on the television, listens to it on the radio, and reads the papers. We left for dinner before anything was confirmed. On the way to El Cordobes we met Becca and she joined us. Later, during dinner the waiters told us that the US and Britain did indeed bomb Afghanistan and then they turned on the news on their television. Tears started from my eyes and I lost my appetite. We returned to La Carboneria, checked in with Paco and the news, and then proceeded upstairs and got on the internet for the BBC news in English. We lit a candle for all the people who have died and/or are suffering. I didn’t feel like dancing anymore after hearing the news. When I thought about my reaction I asked myself why not dance for the world, rather than cry. So, before I danced tonight, I decided to dance for all the people who are suffering right now. I want to bring joy and I offer my dance as a prayer, a healing prayer for all those who need it. Then I went downstairs and did Sevillanas with Rubina at the end of her show and it was fun. Rayhana’s Middle Eastern dance, (she is part of the Armenian group) and the Armenian music followed the Flamenco show. During her dance, Rayhana pulled me up on stage and we danced together. That was fun too. I haven’t done Middle Eastern dance in a while, but my twenty five years of experience with it has made it a part of me; and it felt good to do it again. People said it looked very natural, and it has always felt more natural to me than Flamenco. Flamenco I have to learn in this life; Middle Eastern seems to come from an inner knowing, although of course I took many years of classes. But now is my time for Flamenco. Flamenco is teaching me emotional lessons as well as dance. For Flamenco one must like oneself and believe in oneself. One must react with strength and not crumple. Flamenco makes me tune into my strong parts as well as my soft parts. There is an attitude of self acceptance and confidence that I must feel and express to dance well. Dancing Flamenco is making me grow emotionally and I love it.

Rayhana and Souren have moved into Luis and Rubina’s old room, Liz and Alexi’s room last year, across from the bathroom. Marta had been staying there for the last two weeks, but now she is staying outside the Carboneria and Rayhana and Souren have given up their temporary hotel to join the rest of their group living here at La Carboneria. Before there was no space for a couple so they had to take a room in a hostel. It is part of their contract that they stay here and what they had expected to do. They are nice people. We are a lot of Americans here right now, but we are all nice and all artists. Pola and Manolo and of course Paco are from Spain. Francois is from France. The international make up of the people here changes, sometimes from day to day. Paco has friends from all over the world. Most visit for a while and then leave. Some stay on for extended periods, and some indefinitely. Right now we are a full house!! (Francois is sleeping on a mattress outside Ryan and Christine’s little den by the stairs.)

October 9, 2001

She says I am too rigid when I do the complicated contra palmas pattern at the end of my buleras. I become afraid, afraid that I can’t do it, afraid that I am not good enough, afraid of failure, afraid of making a mistake. Flamenco has so much to teach me about living, about growing. She asks why I am afraid. She shows me how my fear becomes reality —when I am rigid with fear the palmas don’t work; when I am relaxed they are fine. Flamenco is about relaxing and being strong and right on at the same time. Why is that so hard? I feel like I must break out of this small shell of rigidity, that my light must break free of this limitation and shine. The “me” inside, bound by limitations of my mind, must break through and shine. I love it when Rubina dances who she is. Now I must do the same. When I do Sevillanas with Rubina on the stage I am me and the audience sees it. Now I must let the me come out with the hard things too. My fear holds me back. And this process of letting go is what I teach to my psychotherapy clients. Why can’t I teach it to myself? Dick Olney used to say, “I made a mistake and that’s where it’s at and it’s no big deal.” I must stop fearing making a mistake with my contras and just enjoy it. Concha says that this is Flamenco, feeling the comps with the entire body in every aspect of life. Concha says that if I make a mistake it can help me learn. She also is working with me so I don’t “eat” the accents. Perhaps “swallow” is a more accurate translation. The accents and terminations must be strong in Flamenco to keep that pulse moving, that heartbeat of the comps. There must be no insecurity; there must be a feeling of relaxed confidence. What a metaphor for psychotherapy, for what we try to teach in the psychotherapeutic process. When I do it right she yells, “Ol, viva tu.” That’s it. Are you hearing it now? Are you feeling it?

PM.

Today we started the clean and organize project of Paco’s floor, where all the guests but us stay. This morning I got some masking tape from Mariano, who is back at work after being hospitalized for an ulcer. Christine and Ryan wrote everyone’s name on a piece of tape and placed it over one of the towel hooks. Now everyone has a specific place to hang their towel. Ryan and Souren reorganized the main room, moving shelves that were placed in front of other shelves, temporarily for an unfinished but forgotten project. They moved old abandoned belongings of previous guests, broken chairs, and stuffed boxes. They created a nicer sitting space and then they cleaned it. Haig, the Armenian oud player, tightened the shower head so it won’t fall. Mariano is going to put in a bracket to hang a shower curtain tomorrow and Christine and I will go out to buy two beautiful ones as a present from our community to Paco. Yes, suddenly we feel like community. Working together to beautify our environment and help take care of Paco’s house, to give back to Paco some of what he has given, has brought us all closer together. This morning, after the basket trunk with the boxes and junk piled on it had been moved, I found the book I had asked the universe for. In my dance class the other day, Concha quoted the Lorca poem about Antonio Torres Heredia, referring to my learning to walk slowly and with tranquillity/grace/attitude. “Anda despacio y garboso”, she said, and quoted several stanzas of that poem. I decided I wanted to find it and perhaps memorize it. I wondered to myself if Paco had any Lorca or if I should look in a book store. Well this morning I wondered what was in the liberated basket trunk. I opened it and there, on the left top was a paperback Lorca book, covered with old dust. It had the poem I wanted. I showed it to Paco and he immediately took the book to the bar and cleaned it off for me. It was a new book when it was given to Paco and it is in perfect condition and now it looks new again. Another magic moment of our adventures in Spain. This afternoon Christine showed me her paintings. She is an excellent artist and her paintings are beautiful. I am impressed. Her major influence is Marc Rothco, but I actually like her things better. Paco wants to give her an exhibition here at La Carboneria next year, at the time of the Bienal. Paco’s son Pisco, who always feels organized and responsible, is also interested in showing Christine’s work. She and Paco’s son Sergio, who works here at the Carboneria, are both artists and share a strong admiration for each other’s work. She would like to show Sergio’s things in New York when she does an exhibition there. Quiet, curly haired Sergio is also an excellent photographer. His photograph of Concha was on the Giradilla (major entertainment guide) cover during the 2000 Bienal. I have a copy of this photo on our web site. I love it so much that I used it to make the fliers for Concha’s classes when she was in California last summer. La Carboneria also gives away free postcards with photos of Sevilla taken by Sergio.

October 11, 2001

Elun’s birthday is today. He is thirty. Thirty years ago I was at Black Bear Commune in the wilderness mountains of California giving birth to my beautiful baby, Elun. Today he and his wife are going to New York city to see the memorials to those who died and/or suffered in the tragedy and to see theater too. What a world to celebrate your birthday in. I guess, I’ll have the same world to celebrate my birthday in too, in about two weeks. Last night, here in Sevilla, I belly danced (in a makeshift costume) with Rayhana to the music of the Armenians. We had created a duet earlier in the evening which we performed during her show at La Carboneria. It was fun, but I didn’t like what I did when I saw it in the video tape Freddie took of it. All my old, bad habits of belly dance were back. Hopefully I can correct that tonight. We will go over our choreography again and I will try to learn it better. I kept looking at Rayhana for the steps and that also distracted me and I didn’t dance the “me” like I did the other night when I danced impromptu.

October 12, 2001

In my journey today I was told to ask Max, our friend, neighbor, renter, caretaker, to send me a list of all the appointments for November that are in that book. So I just sent him an e-mail. My dancing is taking wonderful leaps and bounds and has greatly improved, even in the last two days. I have been working on good, strong palmas and contra tiempo. I am also still working on strong accents and not “eating/swallowing” the comps. It is very exciting, although there are times before I get “there” that I am full of frustration, crying and complaining that I just can’t do it. But then it starts to come and I see it in the video. It looks good. It is more objective than just feeling it as I am doing it. The video often surprises me, it is so different from how I feel that it looks. My posture and arms look better too, although there are still things there that I can see that I need to correct. Concha often sees more than I do, what I need to correct. She goes a step farther than I do, and I like that. She actually stretches me to heights that are beyond my imagination. She has opened dimensions for me that I could not get to myself. She is a true teacher and is giving me so much of herself when she teaches. She believes in me and says she is teaching me like she teaches her own daughter. She is also correcting my style as well as my comps in a very detailed way. And I am actually getting it.

The first installment of my writing will be sent out eventually, when I finish the first edit.

Freddie’s foot is mending, but it is not better yet and he still can’t walk too far, which is a shame. Although, he got a beautiful pair of shoes with laces for his orthopedic inserts, “plantillas” which should help both his feet and his back.

We’re taking the bus to Jerez tomorrow to see a Flamenco show. Manuel Agujetas, Luis’s older brother will sing. I am not sure who the other performers are. Bobby told us about the concert. We’ll spend the night in Jerez and return to Sevilla on Sunday.

We’re going to celebrate my birthday next Saturday (a week from tomorrow), a few days before my actual 57th birthday on Tuesday October 23rd. Rafael, Concha’s husband will come to la Carboneria early and cook. Concha will get a birthday cake from Utrera where she says the best bakeries are. We will invite the people who live here, Rubina, and some of our other friends. It will be fun. We are celebrating on Saturday so Concha can come. She works on all the week days and we figure Saturday is an easier day to give the party than Sunday.

Our next door neighbors called from their terrace to our window tonight to invite us to dinner Monday night.

As I have been writing tonight, Freddie is playing beautifully and cleanly, sitting on the chair by our Formica “coffee” table, in front of the small couch we moved up here from down stairs. The couch is covered with a turquoise blanket whose short fringe hangs at the bottom by the floor. We cleaned and straightened our room last night and it looks nice.

October 14, 2001

We returned from Jerez this afternoon. Jerez was fun and we both bought boots. We couldn’t find a hotel so we ended up staying at Bobby’s. Bobby is leaving Monday for Madrid and then home to the US. Rubina went down with us for the day and then returned that evening to dance here. She is tuning in to her singing, her dancing, and also her healing abilities now that she is alone. I see a strong and wise woman emerging from her. She just needs to listen to that. She has grown both emotionally and artistically.