I'm usually too timid for street photography. The thought of capturing someone unaware weighs on me—I fear intruding upon their moment, making them feel exposed without consent. But there are occasions when the setting itself offers permission: public performances where the photographer becomes invisible, absorbed into the audience. The flamenco performance in Seville was one such moment. I found myself beside the drummer, my camera fitted with a vintage lens, and for those hours I was completely absorbed. The dancer inhabited each gesture fully, and I worked to meet her there—focusing, capturing, focusing again—hoping each photograph might hold some essence of what I witnessed. When I look at the photographs now, I believe I caught it: not just the dancer, but the motion itself, the energy that filled that sun-warmed street.