Flamenco is an art that nobody understands equally. Each individual, a definition. Or two, depending on the moment.
It is a whole. An artist flooded by nothing.
Just him and a tablao. Just him and you. And you. And you.
Feeling. Emotion. Passion. Admiration.
A groan that cracks the soul, echoes in the chest and echoes in the heart.
It is not a fad. It was not. Nor will it be.
Always ours. Yours.
– Me, flamenco.