When I play the piano, it isn’t because my mom makes me do it. Or because my school requires it. I play it because I can feel the music rushing through me. I can make it sound like what I am feeling. When I am depressed, so is the beautiful instrument. If I am excited and happy and joyful, so is the piano. I control what it does. I command it to play. I am a composer.

None of my songs have ever been successfully completed. They do not have names. They are not a type of music; they are their own kind. They are original. So am I. Some go up the scale of ivory keys, hitting the highest scales of notes, only to be brought back down with more gloomy measures. This represents me, my life and its ups and downs. There is never any song that plays only the high notes, just as there is no life with only happiness. There are rarely people with constantly miserable lives, nor is there any song that sticks to the lower notes only.
Music is my passion; the wind beneath my wings. It describes me and my personality. Some are catchy, toe-tapping tunes you might hear on the radio. While others are not, they seem to have a very marvelous feel to them. Like Beethoven’s Fur Elise, its enchantment hypnotizes the listener. All of my songs have the hypnotic feel, but some are more hidden than others. You have to dig deep into my songs to really find the meaning.
Writing a song is like making choices in life. You can make a choice that brings you one octave higher, while another can bring you down the keys. Sometimes you can hit a wrong note, but it’s up to you if you want to keep on playing.
When I am depressed, so is the piano. When I am happy or joyful, so is the instrument. I command it to play, just as I make the choices in my life. I control what the piano does, just as I can choose my emotions and how I feel. I am a composer.