What the flamenco dancer and the charcoal seller know.

Doubt is a luxury.

There’s a ticket stub in my pocket for a night of flamenco dancing. Three men came from Spain: a guitarist, a dancer and a singer. They took to a dark stage in Chilliwack and slapped belly, thighs and feet into percussion, snapped fingers and castanets, filled a theatre with sound. As I watched, I thought again, doubt is a luxury.

“What we want in art,” …