Music, something intangible yet, it has the ability to connect everyone no matter who. The words, the melody, the beats, they all have a magical impact on us all. The word music is like a huge umbrella that ranges from a simple rhythm of footsteps to a whole orchestra.  There is no set definition of music, it sways, bends and adapts to anyone’s life. 

From my crib, I listened to the passionate but peaceful music of composers like Chopin, Beethoven, Liszt, and Mozart, my father’s favorite. While I took my first steps, I played my first keys. The daunting black and white keys lining in an array. With great amazement, when I pressed a key down, a sound echoed into the room. A warm, crisp sound echoed throughout the room like a person announcing their name. That’s what they were, each key, each sound is like a name. 

I hold many names. The musical notes and my own. Music has always been a secret pathway, like a secret garden, where I could sit on the big black bench and the world would begin to blend. All emotions would be bottled up ready to explode. They would shoot out of the bottle and erupt through the sounds in the music. A third world reality would be present, full of notes, beats, melody, and nothing else. My hands would just move, gliding over each key with precision and depth like ice-skates on a rink. Music has its own stories. You can hear the emotion and meaning each song carries. Each song has its exposition, rising action, climax, falling action, and resolution. Some songs are more defined but every song has different tempo components, different pitches, different moods, they are like audible books.