Enilde Van Hook
I began to keep a diary at the age of eleven.
I began to keep a diary at the age of eleven.
Favorite Links
Contact Me
We love to tell you our animal stories!

Here's my biography...described in a poem 
(published 1992, Gypsy Spurs; from the Triology of Private Showings)

The Dancer Trapped in the Mind of a Poet
by Ginger Enilde Ingels

I was born with a defect
in my feet
the doctor did detect,
but my mother would not have it.
She wrapped my tiny feet with linens of love
and prayed with hopes of a future
in a poor Argentine province
where the doctor could not convince
a stubborn woman
of her first born daughter's
unusual circumstance.
I am now well over 21
but I continue to admire the rays of the sun;
the way they stretch across the earth
like the arms of a dancer that was given birth.
So, the rays of the sun stretched out over the pampas
and reached into the rivers and over the Gauchos, 
Spanish Gypsies who strummed folk songs under shade trees;
while cattle grazed on rich grasslands,
costumed ladies tap-danced on the water
rythms of a heartfelt tango...
and the elderly?
Shared "un mate" with the young,
passing along the passion of a people
and the tales of stories told of long ago...
I am now well over 21 
but I continue to admire the rays of the sun, 
the way they stretch across the earth
like the soul of a dancer that was given birth
in a land with pride, just the other side of the North
where America belongs to the free.

So, this proud woman, left behind the poverty
and the glory of Peron and the promises of Evita,
both the dancer and the prostitute, raped of her crown,
a tribute to a town whose chest of jewels had long been stolen.
Hospitals and museums, schools and dance studios bared her name,
in a land of the free where a musical
paid tribute to Evita's story.
So, the rays of the sun stretched out over America
to the North of the Southern skies,
and shined upon the immigrants with dreams far greater
than Evita ever imagined; America
took in this proud mother with children of her own
one of which was buried in the new land,
one of which was born in the free land and
one of which, the first born from Rosario, became
the dancer trapped in the mind of a poet...
A dancer not trapped mind you, by any defect of her feet!
A dancer whose proud mother wrapped linens of love
round baby ankles so she could walk and run and climb and stand
on pointe at the bar in front of a mirror.
A dancer not trapped by physical obstacles 
of imperfections seen or unseen
but a dancer trapped dancing
in the mind of a poet;
where it doesn't hurt to bend or stretch or  pull or kick 
where she leaps in midair 
and spins on the stair 
like Ginger with a flair waltzing with Fred Astaire.

You see it's just me,
a sentimental Spanish Gypsy
tap-dancing in my dreams 
on the waters of the pampas listening to the stories told of long ago.
I was born of a proud people; 
the writers and artists, poets and guitarists, 
dancing and dreaming in wide open fields 
before the country was raped 
before politicians and before military, 
trampled ballet bars 
and shattered mirrors 
and scattered myths that 
led to the downfall of the Falklands.

You see, it's just me,
a sentimental Spanish Gypsy 
spinning yarns of scarves blowing in the breeze...
dressed in pencil, maybe ready to cancel
dreams to dance in concert on a stage,
trapped dancing in the mind of a poet.
I am now well over 21 and I continue to lie about my age
for as long as my face can deceive my years
and the rays of the sun allow me to skip and run.
I continue to admire the longing and the fire inside my own soul 
and the rythm in my healthy feet, 
because I was born of this proud mother,
once fully convinced 
of her first born daughter's unusual circomstance 
to dance
even after the sun has set in a land of the free, 
that once embraced the immigrants 
who tap-danced a tango of freedom
in a land which now with oath belongs to me.
Yes, I am now well, well past the age of 21 
and I continue to spin round a tale of a 
a sentimental Spanish Gypsy,
trying to fit in, in a land where
the poet is not really trapped anymore...
where on film, one can dance until well after
one hundred and twenty one!!!
Where I live now,
I can pay tribute to this proud mother for the gift
she never  imagined could bring me such happiness...
Or did she know even then,
my need to run in the rays of the sun
that stretch out across the earth
deep into the heart of a dancer that was given birth.

Enilde with her cat
Argentina,1963, photo taken by my dad, Luis Ingels

My cat's feet are bigger than mine...my entire cat was taller than I was at about age three...

For the love of pets...

I was always surrounded by animals as I was growing up. At the time this photo was taken, I had a dog, a duck and this cat.  I have had a special pet in my life at all times and often I have felt like they were my gaurdian angels in some ways. In 2008, we share our home with Sasha, a forty pound red terrier and four cockateils. (Brujito, Raspy, Princesita and Preciosita) Additionally, we share companionship and housesitting duties with our next door neighbor's infamous white cat named Eggs and our across the street neighbor's dog named Snuggies. Additional special honorary mentions are Jack Jack the grey kitty that lives with Eggs and the newest arrival in the neighborhood, a bunny named Aslan...which Eggs tries to avoid as well. Animal stories are detailed in my daily journals. Entries coming soon.

Favorite authors as I was growing up: 
(Carolyn Keene Mysteries)
Ray Bradbury
James Mitchner
Pearl Buck
Earnest Hemingway
John Steinbeck
Gabriel Garcia Marquez author of
One Hundred Years of Solitude
Marco Denevi author of
Rosaura a las dies (A murder mystery)
(The book my father was reading when he named me Enilde) 

Current writers I admire:
John Grogan author of Marley & Me
Alice Sebold author of 
The Lovely Bones
J.K. Rowling author of 
The Harry Potter series
Audrey Niffennegger author of 
The Time Traveler's Wife

Here's a list of some of my favorite movies:

Shrek, Shrek II, Ratatouee, 
The Jungle Book, Young Frankenstein, Dracula
Mulholland Drive (David Lynch) 
All of Alfred Hitchcock Movies, especially The Birds, 
Schultze Gets The Blues, 
Raising Arizona (I'm a Nicolas Cage Fan)
I'm also a Clint Eastwood fan.

Here's a list of some of my favorite music:

Credence Clearwater Revival, Lookin' out my back door.
Oldies, (The Beetles), (The Monkeys)
AC/DC, Jethro Tull, Rush, Metallica, 
Stevie Nicks, Fleetwood Mac, Bob Dylan
Elvis (the King) as well as Elvis Costello,
Celine Dion,  Bob Marley, Nicodemus, 
Elton John, Dolly Parton, Kenny Rogers, Bonnie Raitt
Jazz (Miles Davis, Lois Armstrong)
All Latin Salsa music and 
pop music like Paula Abdul, Janet Jackson, ABBA,
The Lightning Seeds (Pure), Macy Gray, Tracy Chapman,
Michael Jackson, Madonna, Iggy Pop, Prince as well as
Herb Albert and the Tiajuana Brass...
just to name a few from Gypsy G's library...
(another radio personality nickname I picked up along the way.)

enildeingelsvanhook writer, poetry, fiction, daily journals