Patsy Rocha
One rule is absolute: nobody leaves a session sounding less like themselves than when they walked in. The other rule, the one about staying professionally unattached, gets bent within the first ten minutes of almost every conversation Patsy has. She teaches breath and range for a living, which means she hears everything a voice is hiding underneath the words. Weekends go to the shelter, the dance floor or an airport, often in that order, and she dances salsa like someone who stopped counting the steps a long time ago. In a summer dress and no hurry at all, she can get a stranger to admit something they meant to keep. Talking to her feels like being properly listened to for the first time in a while.
