The Road Diaries

by Kevin Carrel Footer
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Food, Sex, Pets and Tango

Food, Sex, Pets and Tango

When a stranger opens their arms to us in a tango embrace, it is an invitation. When we bare our chest to receive our partner, it is trust in its purest form. When our arms wrap around each other in romantic or fraternal love, it is a homecoming, a possibility.

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Cigarette Breath

Cigarette Breath

Milonga at Los Laureles, Buenos Aires, 2018 After the first tango ended, we made the small-talk that is the unguent that holds the milonga community together. “Do you come here often?” “How beautiful the orchestra is playing tonight.” “I love the way you dance.” My...

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The Party is on the Street

The Party is on the Street

Carnival is back and the party is on the street. I lug my cameras and even a light stand out into the heat of the night. I would like to travel lighter but I don’t know where the photos will spring from. All I know is that I will end the night covered in sweat and...

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Write Like You Dance

Write Like You Dance

I try my best to embrace the chaotic, contradictory, random abundance and confusion around me (and inside me) and bring it all into balance. Balance for me means not getting overly attached to any one outcome, laughing at myself regularly and learning to flow. It...

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Pursued by a Man in Pin-Striped Shoes

Pursued by a Man in Pin-Striped Shoes

Dancers burning the candle at both ends, La Catedral, 2018. Of late, I have been going to dance tango at the Marabú. It is a strange choice for me, that I can’t quite explain. I usually gravitate to venues with the relaxed good vibes of a community center rather than...

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Temples on Rooftops

Temples on Rooftops

The wet heat of summer had been whisked away by a storm that blew in off the river. Hot, humid air had been routed by a cold front. In the darkness of the taxi, I fumbled for the rocker switch to roll up my window. The driver, I noticed, did the same. The breeze...

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La Boca, Home of the Blues

La Boca, Home of the Blues

On the corner of Avenida Almirante Brown and some muddy, unfinished street in La Boca stands – or rather squats – the Blues Special Club. It ain’t Mississippi, but it’s about as authentic as you can get. The other storefronts on that forlorn stretch of street are so...

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Goats & Epiphanies

Goats & Epiphanies

The last time I saw a circus goat. She was walking across a narrow plank three meters off the ground. She was not at all sure of her footing and her gold-fringed caparison was slipping indecently off to one side. She did it all led by a shrill circus announcer in...

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That Fear of Falling

That Fear of Falling

The other night at the milonga a couple near me fell to the floor. I heard them before I saw them: a heavy thud and a gasp that rippled out across the room as people sensed a disturbance in the tango force. Behind me I saw two bodies where they did not belong. She was...

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