Travel, tango, and the art of explaining your life without boring people to death. From the outside, being a traveling tango teacher can...

There’s a phrase in Spanish—“poner el cuerpo”—that doesn’t translate cleanly into English, but it hits hard. Literally, it means “to put the body”, but the meaning runs deeper. It means showing up with your whole self—body, mind, nerves, scars, instincts. It’s about stepping into something fully, even when there’s risk. Especially when there’s risk.

Being Argentine doesn’t automatically make someone a tanguero. Dancing for thirty years doesn’t necessarily make someone a good dancer—let alone a teacher. And spending time in Buenos Aires doesn’t turn someone into a porteño. These are identities that aren’t claimed; they’re earned over time, through consistent practice, curiosity, and a deep respect for the tradition.

Imagine a room full of advanced tango dancers, all attempting the same simple *parada*. Yet, no two dancers execute it the same way.

Tango is a journey to self discovery where each step can be an opportunity to heal, to grow and to discover our inner strength.

In the world of tango, every step is a conversation, every embrace an exploration. Technical mastery intertwines with emotional connection.

In the initial stages of the embrace, the emotions stirred by it can feel tight and itchy -much like the healing of tissue around a wound.

Abracen a hombres de verdad que la milonga, aquí y en cualquier parte, está llena de ellos. In the last few months I’ve read many...

Reflexión sobre cómo la presencia de lo masculino y femenino en el tango nos acercan a la unidad entre vulnerabilidad, confianza y conexión.

Fiction and reality, 46 years after the day in which "Pichuco fell from the hands of the bandoneon" - Maybe 'cause I was made in tangos...