The press regularly proclaims my ambitions and my financial demands.
I then realized that I could never be satisfied again with the mere natural charm of my voice, that I had to constantly paint when singing, melting all the colors, expressing reds and blacks that had to be less primary but bursting with subtly colored combinations.
In the last century, everybody was singing lower.
If money was my only motivation, I would organize myself differently.
Singing becomes a form of therapy.
I attended less than two years of Conservatory in Mexico City.