My relationship with Arts & Letters date back to my childhood and teenage years in Cuba where I attended Cubanacan, one of the most selective and prestigious multidisciplinary conservatories in the world. I committed to studying and working in the arts when I was about 11, after a stardom-bound journey through children's musical theater and radio soap operas in my native Santiago de Cuba. Believe me when I tell you that I had lots of fun. It was the glamorous '70s and ‘80s and the world was then a glittering happy place, at least in my hometown. It was there where I saw colors for the first time, like shooting stars piercing holes on the sails of pirate galleons lost in the waves not of the sea, but of the drums under the Caribbean starry skies. I was held in Grandma's arms as she danced on the streets during Carnival festivities seducing all eyes with her hip acrobatics. The air blew throughout our bodies intertwined with the Chinese trumpet, the violin, the laud and the guitar. I was five and had already been claimed by a multitude of ethnic ancestors wrapped in tongues of fire: the Afro-Cubans, the French, the Haitians, the Jamaicans and the Sephardic Jews. The Carnival celebration was our only breath of freedom. So, I grew up to find my voice in the Arts & Letters, the only space where freedom can never be misspelled.