Passion for Tango

Excerpted from a letter with a friend, about losing our mojo in tango.

It does underlie everything in the dance, doesn't it? It's hard though, in those moments of lapse, to remember that anything else exists.

What is it about tango that strips us?

I think it's the music. It's so absolute, and in the absence of our own mojo, the music intensifies the lack. It pulls from my gut that sense of want and then tugs me along like a pull toy. Sometimes I hate feeling played with that way. And sometimes I can think of nothing else. It's the lover that knows all the buttons to push; to melt me and to denigrate me and to bring me high and to show I'm nothing, and then to make me beg for more because I've rarely felt something so beautifully intense.

I don't feel the same with alternative music. From that, I can just walk away if the night isn't flowing. But never from traditional. It follows me, sits with me, demands my attention. Sometimes I have to find that bravado, that mojo, that sense of fullness in myself...just to make it go away for a couple minutes so I can breathe.

But then, in that second of breath, I fall in love all over again.