In the documentary “Our last tango” the fabulous eighty-something Maria Nieves tells about her life as a tango dancer. As a storyteller, she goes where she senses that the energy within the listener lies. In her conversations with the two actresses that portrait her, the movie shows in the most beautiful way how a human being consists of multiple bodies and how a life builds on the steps we take.
The last words in the movie are ” I am Maria Nieves”
I laughed with that Maria and touched by her story the movie took me to that place of love where I cry.
Blood rushing rhythm
It is her heartbeat that tells her how to dance. An inner impulse keeps her dedicated to the tango throughout her life. She lights up when she reminisces about dancing outside under the moon with other couples.
I want to feel the pulse of writing and let the moon light up the path. I want to write in the night and not feel the tiredness of afternoon twilight. When I picked up an old magazine today at a cafe there was a whole article about the tango. While writing, the afternoon turned into evening promising me a dose of moon magic, whispering just one more word.
When did you last feel the blood-rushing rhythm of writing?
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