This first song I can remember hearing was in
Portuguese. In Kindergarten, I wanted to be a visual
artist. I can’t draw.
My mother knew I could sing by the time I was four. The first song I wrote was about missing my first grade teacher. I sang it while looking out the window. Crying.
I was shocked when my father told me that Teena Marie was white. She is the reason I learned how to operate a record player.
In music class, I would listen to the piano keys one at a time. In college, I studied Poetry. After my first year of college, I moved to New York to pursue my music career. I had $100 to my name. Things didn't go as planned, so I became a nanny.
I fell in love. We made a blue-eyed baby. Things fell apart. I fell out of love with him, and in love with Him.
Sound sustained me.
I sing. I write. I create.