• My culture flows with the rhythm of a fresh, jazzy breeze. My soul is made of music, with fingers pressed lovingly to the bow of a violin and fingertips prancing like fire across piano keys. The world brims with song even in the silence. I am a musician, but more of a listening observer than anything else. I bop my head to the beat of your essence as you walk by. I tap my toes to the sound of your smile. I hear, feel, and smell the notes as they resonate in my mind but cannot produce them myself. Perhaps that is why I marvel at the music you make. It is entirely unique.