The Dancer is a beautiful woman. So many blood lines are in her that she is the amalgam of us all. Spanish. Azorean. Arab. English. Gypsy. In her high cheekbones is her Indian blood. Her great-grandmother was Coeur D’Alene and sang the Blues in San Francisco. There are bootleggers and brothel-owners in her as well. As I said, she is the amalgam of us all.
Comments
3 responses to “The Dancer and the Falling Down”
Kevin,
I am utterly flattered by such an honor!!! You have such a wonderful perspective and and very keen observation skills! I feel you do see me! Thank you from the bottom of my heart for writing from your heart about my story. And of course, my home is your home!
As always with love,
Barbara
Kevin, me emocionaste. Es tan visiblemente descriptivo tu relato. Yo he sido “kind of” a bailarina y me tocó el alma y mis fibras tu descripcion. No he tenido el dolor de pasar por algo semejante, pero los años hacen lo suyo. Es cuestion de mantener el corazon y el alma siempre encendidos.
Gracias Kevin
You look like Frank Sinatra and sound like Stevie Wonder
Astrid
Kevin, I would like to introduce Keith Honeycutt, someone very special in my life. Upon reading your wonderful tribute, Keith wanted to make personal contact.
Hello, Kevin!
My name is Keith, I am Barbara’s loving man. We met this Autumn our spirits united passionately as we create a lifetime bond. I would like to sincerely thank you for such respect and honor in friendship and compassion as a human being. I is refreshing to know that you respect people and their differences with empathy reminding us all that with our differences we are all the same as people.
Sincerely,
Keith Honeycutt