26/08/2026
Today I woke up feeling hungover. Hungover from crying so much, something I hadn’t done in a very long time. I suppose that’s a good sign.
Many people will probably wonder why Dolly’s passing has affected me so deeply because, of course, it was something we knew would eventually happen. She was 80 years old, and it was only a matter of time. And yet, the world has become so absurd lately that somehow I imagined that someone like her, with every kind of resource available to her, would be one of those people trying every product and treatment for longevity and would end up dying at 150, just as beautiful, just as sharp, with the same spark and charisma she had always had — and still had in her final concerts and interviews. Full of energy to embark on new business ventures, new albums, new tours. She was incredible.
To me, Dolly isn’t just an idol or a singer to admire or imitate. Dolly represents everything I would have wanted to aspire to as an artist.
My artistic career has evolved from small performances as a teenager in little towns, to Latin orchestras, queen pageants and hotel shows. But when I reached a certain point, I made an important decision, and Dolly was the character who inspired me and took me by the hand along the way.
Dolly was the first show I ever produced on my own, to face an audience on my own and prove to myself that I was capable of bringing a crowd to its feet ALL BY MYSELF.
Alone, but with her. Always with her.
I studied her because I had to, in order to do my job properly; and as I learned how to become her, I learned from her. And I fell in love.
With her albums, her songs, her personality, her cheekiness, her vocal quality, the warmth she brought to her live performances… And on top of all that, I discovered that my own life resembled hers in so many ways, and I felt everything she had lived through almost as if I had lived it myself.
That’s why I have always tried to give the very best of myself when singing her songs because, as I often tell the audience during my shows, she talks about herself in all of them. Ordinary stories about everyday life, which is, after all, what country music is all about: stories about Mom, Dad, the neighbour, the man who plays the banjo and the dog next door.
I live her songs as if they were my own because they describe me completely.
*Coat of Many Colors*, my childhood.
*Backwoods Barbie*, the girl I wanted to be when I was 14, when I adored watching sing in a restaurant in Los Cristianos.
I carry Dolly within me, and I felt her loss.
Most of all, the loss of knowing that I will never have the chance to enjoy one of her wonderful concerts, or the privilege of seeing her in person and telling her just how immense my admiration is for everything she was, both as an ARTIST and as a PERSON.
Thank you, Dolly, for everything you have given me.
I will carry with the greatest pride that little piece of your legacy that I have been incredibly lucky to carry with me.
Alone, but with you. Always with you.
