2759 Sweet Francesca, wherefore art thou?
Date: Sat, 11 Sep 2004 11:10:26 +1200
From: Robert <bob.ramsey-turner@QUICKSILVER.NET.NZ>
Subject: Sweet Francesca, wherefore art thou?
In March this year, sitting with friends in the corner where the
orchestras play at Salon Canning, BsAs, watching the dancing and
discussing the styles of the passing dancers, not really looking for a
dance, when eye contact was made with a lady sitting at the next table.
Questions asked and answered.
Francesca, (Argentinean) is a tall wiry, graceful lady, short curly
grey hair, not an ounce of fat on her, I’m sure she will never see her
70th birthday again.
I’m not running this lady down, far from it. There was, and I’m sure
still is, something special about her, she must have been a stunner in
her youth.
Not a word was spoken as we stood opposite each other on the crowded
floor. Sure I know about the proper moves to take when entering the
embrace, but we don’t always do it, do we?
We stood, perhaps half a metre apart, eyes met, she passively waiting,
but somehow or other with her body language and the exchanged, passed
information I didn’t feel free to just step forward to the embrace.
For a moment or two, at a loss for what to do next, maybe, I’m not sure
how or why, but I raised my left hand, then slowly turned my head and
looked at my raised open hand. Then turning back again to Francesca, she
never broke the eye contact but slowly raised her right hand and with
the lightness of a feather landing, placed her hand in mine, rested it
there for a moment, then gave it a tiny squeeze.
We embraced; she locked herself onto my chest. It would have taken a
crowbar to separate us. The quality of her dance raised the quality of
mine, these are rare and precious moments. When the music stopped, our
feet were in the parada position, my right on the outside of her left, I
felt the slightest change in her weight, then the pressure of her right
foot as she had crossed behind and trapped my foot between hers.
Dancing with Francesca, was the most “Full On” tango experience I have
ever had, if that lady lived her life the way she tangoed then it would
be, a most brilliant and beautiful life.
After the tanda was over, I suggested to my friend he also danced with
Francesca, which he did, with the same result. WOW!
Every Milonga we went to over the next few days, we looked for her, but
after about a week she had gone, not without leaving her mark
Thanks Francesca, wherever you are.
Robert Ramsey-Turner
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Date: Fri, 10 Sep 2004 18:56:21 -0600
From: Edmundo <erueda1@ELP.RR.COM>
Subject: Re: Sweet Francesca, wherefore art thou?
Francesca is still there! I danced with her and still do in my dreams. She
is the essence of Tango Argentino and the way the minas of Buenos Aires
dance.
Mundo
----- Original Message -----
Sent: Friday, September 10, 2004 5:10 PM
Subject: [TANGO-L] Sweet Francesca, wherefore art thou?
In March this year, sitting with friends in the corner where the
orchestras play at Salon Canning, BsAs, watching the dancing and
discussing the styles of the passing dancers, not really looking for a
dance, when eye contact was made with a lady sitting at the next table.
Questions asked and answered.
Francesca, (Argentinean) is a tall wiry, graceful lady, short curly
grey hair, not an ounce of fat on her, I’m sure she will never see her
70th birthday again.
I’m not running this lady down, far from it. There was, and I’m sure
still is, something special about her, she must have been a stunner in
her youth.
Not a word was spoken as we stood opposite each other on the crowded
floor. Sure I know about the proper moves to take when entering the
embrace, but we don’t always do it, do we?
We stood, perhaps half a metre apart, eyes met, she passively waiting,
but somehow or other with her body language and the exchanged, passed
information I didn’t feel free to just step forward to the embrace.
For a moment or two, at a loss for what to do next, maybe, I’m not sure
how or why, but I raised my left hand, then slowly turned my head and
looked at my raised open hand. Then turning back again to Francesca, she
never broke the eye contact but slowly raised her right hand and with
the lightness of a feather landing, placed her hand in mine, rested it
there for a moment, then gave it a tiny squeeze.
We embraced; she locked herself onto my chest. It would have taken a
crowbar to separate us. The quality of her dance raised the quality of
mine, these are rare and precious moments. When the music stopped, our
feet were in the parada position, my right on the outside of her left, I
felt the slightest change in her weight, then the pressure of her right
foot as she had crossed behind and trapped my foot between hers.
Dancing with Francesca, was the most “Full On” tango experience I have
ever had, if that lady lived her life the way she tangoed then it would
be, a most brilliant and beautiful life.
After the tanda was over, I suggested to my friend he also danced with
Francesca, which he did, with the same result. WOW!
Every Milonga we went to over the next few days, we looked for her, but
after about a week she had gone, not without leaving her mark
Thanks Francesca, wherever you are.
Robert Ramsey-Turner
---
Outgoing mail is certified Virus Free.
Checked by AVG anti-virus system (https://www.grisoft.com).
Version: 6.0.735 / Virus Database: 489 - Release Date: 6/08/2004
