Maria lost her father at an early age, but it was through her father that she chose to become a flamenco dancer and a singer.
Maria: In my childhood, my father was listening to flamenco all the time and he went to the caves where there was flamenco, and my grandma was a gypsy dancer there. In a certain way it was in my blood, but it came to me when I was very young watching flamenco with my father at Alhambra of a gypsy dancer very famous in Granada. There is a monument in Carrera del Darro of a man called Mario Maya and he was a friend of my father. I saw this man performing when I was 2 years old, and I felt the magic in the energy. He was just dancing with a guitar, and my father was crying—my father never cried, and all the people were gasping and I felt this emotion. At a very young age, I decided this was for me. I want to inspire people through this magical moment, when the hearts are together. It was as if everybody connected in a point of beauty, not in pain.
The guitarist plays the guitar, the singer sings. At my first communion in church when I was 12 years old, I sang in the coro, a vocal solo. My father cried again watching me sing, and it was this connection between the two moments of my father crying that my art emerged. When I saw my father crying when the Mario Maya danced, it inspired me to become a dancer; when I saw my father cry when I sang, it gave me the power to sing. Being a dancer, I was always in contact with singers and I was always in love with singing. I used singing to show my pupils the connection between singing and dancing, which is very important in flamenco, and to do so, I began to sing. Little by little, I liberated my voice and I am now into composing my own message and singing.