Black patent leather seat. White keys rise from their glossy black case. Black ones interspersed and hidden closer to the faded gold lettering “Pearl River”. Flimsy red cloth whisked off. My hands rest lightly upon the keys that, however discordant, are music to my ears.

I didn’t always have this sanctuary. Until a year ago, I’d never before touched a piano. I dreamed of exhilarating concertos filled with flourishes and grand climaxes, but what began my musical journey wasn’t the beautiful piano I admired from afar, but the seemingly innocuous and cheaper violin.

The pains of violin nearly extinguished any musical love I had. Practicing meant rigid posture, strained fingers, and sore arms: all positioned exactly to produce just one note. This torture of 11 years dampened my enthusiasm. When stringing together a melody required hours of painstaking effort, music became a chore, and my parents had to practically force-feed it down my throat. Every time I saw my violin case, I would cringe.

My youthful love for piano temporarily forgotten, I unconsciously searched for another means of self-expression. I moved my hands along paper instead of keys, scrawling ink, searching for words instead of notes. Stories flowed from my fingers in the absence of songs, and I found solace in the moving crescendos of novels and the dynamics of the characters.

Then, one day, after coming home I saw it. In the middle of our living room. A piano.

Originally for my younger brother, I soon became the sole pianist as his interest died as mine reignited. I eagerly began learning the notes and practicing, disregarding technique, concerned only with piecing together a coherent melody.

I know I’ll never achieve flawless playing, and don’t aim for such a lofty goal. My fingers fumble often, and there will be wrong notes in every song. Yet, there is no embarrassment in sharing my music. There are no exacting expectations, no judgment like faltering in violin after years of practice. Without these stresses, my true desire is unveiled: to share my passion, for music and all else, with the world. To share my excitement with others and inspire them. To light up their eyes the way piano light up mine.

This life is measured by the lives we touch with words, actions, or music. I want to spark a vigorous devotion, similar to my undying love for piano, in others’ hearts and minds. Something that lasts years, tested and hidden but always alive. I have many dreams, many passions, many ideas. I hold these close to my heart, and in sharing them, just like the notes of each chord, I share pieces of myself. Spreading enthusiasm and stirring up fervor in others is my motivation: the “why” behind the “what”.

I cherish each day as a day to share the joy I have at the piano bench.