Inesita at 4 years in a costume made by a dear family friend.
Inesita in her first Bata de Cola (colin) 1939
My precious parents after their marriage, 1920.
Firsr dance dress sewn by my beautiful paternal Grandmother, Aurelia.
Grandmother Aurelia
My Dad with his Violin c. 1923
With my Dad in 1941 when I was 19.
Inesita in her studio June 2018.

The Long Journey

In the stories I have posted there is very little about my personal life which I kept mostly private. I regarded the existence I lived apart from the theatrical profession lacks color and interest in comparison. I feared any narrative I revealed would be a great disappointment to the public in view of the glamour and mystery that the stage presents.

Now, after so much time which have been given me by some kind fate, or conversely a curse to live on beyond any expectations of my own, I feel compelled to set the door ajar a bit to the hidden self.

I regret being a timid and shy person unable to relate well to others. I envied anyone who is happily social and free of fear. But as we find it, I offer apologies to those who see this flaw in me.

I have been told by friends and acquaintances that it was wonderful to see me “open up” when I perform. Apparently my own personality disappears into the dance and I become another.

This preamble leads to very early references of my beginnings. As told in other “blogs” I was surrounded by a very musical and artistic environment of my parentage and there seemed no other life that I wanted to live.

Being an only child and only grandchild, (my father had no siblings), I was doted on by all the adults in my life. Spoiled? Without a doubt.

Here then is a small view of those tender years. A photo of a little pink ballet dress –a tunic really, sewn by my beautiful paternal grandmother, Aurelia. Somehow this was saved through the vicissitudes of life in good condition. A faded snapshot taken at four years of age while posing in a costume made by a dear friend of my parents It does not show its sequins and beads. The shadows in the image made my knees appear bruised or dirty. There were no smart phones then!!

And now as I appear today.

I remain humble and grateful for more time to do what I love and share with those who honor me with their presence. I ask forgiveness if I sound maudlin. Having lived through so many epochs in my chosen profession, I am a link to the past. Just as flamenco joins past to present in its method; so the endless chain of rhythmic pulses are totally in the instant and yet completely out of time. Although I gaze  back from the here and now, I do not dwell in the past. Since I embraced technology sufficiently to write this way to the world, it has added another dimension to my life.