The Portrait

A six year old's dream of being a Flamenco dancer

Six-year-old Theresa always loved going to visit her best friend Lucy. The main reason wasn't so much to see Lucy, but rather to see a portrait of Lucy's 16 year old sister Carmela. Upon entering Lucy's home everyone was greeted by a floor to ceiling, five foot wide, hand painted portrait of Carmela in one of her Flamenco ensembles of burgundy and black. Theresa's eyes could not help but take in every inch of the portrait. It would always leave her standing there gazing up at it, completely mesmerized.

Looking up into Carmela's eye, Theresa could see Carmela contemplating her first step, the first step that would begin her dance. She would then begin to see shadows surrounding Carmela's dress, and, as well as, her hand holding a lace fan, begin to sway. Theresa held her breath in anticipation, for she knew in her heart that Carmela would step from the golden and intricately carved frame at any moment, and begin her dance.

Theresa had learned from Lucy that Carmela had been dancing the flamenco from the age of four. Theresa loved Flamenco, it had always been her favorite type of dance. Once Theresa had the good fortune of going with Lucy to watch Carmela perform at a dance competition. It had been one of many in which Carmela had taken first place. Every second of the entire performance would stay ingrained in Theresa's mind forever.

Sometimes, Theresa would close her eyes and remember those incredible moments.

In the beginning, the stadium had been pitch black, and not a sound could be heard, yet the anticipation could be felt all throughout. Suddenly a solitary spot light beamed down from the high ceiling. There, frozen in pose, stood Carmela wearing one of her many beautiful dresses.

A flamenco guitarra began resonating throughout the stadium, bringing it to life! With the first beat, Carmela broke her statuesque pose and began stamping her black high heeled leather boots. Each step tapping the ground with the rhythm of the music. Slowly she began to twirl. With her dress train of ruffles held in her right hand, and holding her lace fan in her left, moving it gracefully through the air, she became one with the music. Each step glided her across the center of the stadium. Gasps of "AWE" came from the audience as their excitement grew. Many stood, and began clapping hands, stomping feet, all to the beat of the guitarra. Breaths being taken away by both her glorious beauty and motion.

Yes, looking up at Carmela's portrait always brought those moments back to life for Theresa, and was why she could stay admiring it for hours. On those fortunate days when Theresa went to visit Lucy, and she wasn't quite ready, Lucy would ask Theresa to wait for her in the entry way. She would smile inwardly and tell Lucy, "don't worry, take your time", and stand staring at the portrait.

Today was one of those lucky days when Lucy wasn't ready. Theresa, as always gazed up at the portrait, and began to envision herself in Carmela's dress. Theresa could see herself dancing around that stadium, clicking castanets, swirling her hands in graceful motion. Up, down, and around her hands would go, just as all flamenco dancers do. She would be gliding to the beat of a guitarra playing a fast Spanish cante. She would be stomping the heals of her cool flamenco boots while dancing across the room. Round and round, in a circular motion she would be moving, and never losing a beat. She would be one with the rhythm of that guitarra. Everyone would be shouting, “Que bella”, “How Beautiful!”, “Baile Theresa, baile” “Dance Theresa, dance”. Her ruffle train twirling while she danced so gracefully.

She was still deep in thought, and ready to make her special finale, when she was brought back to reality by a smack on her arm. Lucy had arrived, and was ready to go. Theresa was knocked out of her Flamenco trance, and rubbed the spot Lucy had kit. Sadly it was again time to leave, leave the world of Flamenco. Yet, before she walked out of the door of Lucy's house, she turned and gave one last glance over her shoulder, one last glimpse at that portrait. Did she see Carmela smiling, give her a slight nod, and then a wink? Yes, Theresa knew she did, for it was an acknowledgment one flamenco dancer would give to another. "Baile Theresa, Baile"