The thank-you that I’m not brave enough to put on Facebook:

To the beautiful friends and family that came to hear me play the concerto today:

Thank you. You are a special person. You are such a precious human being, to have taken the time to come see me play, to believe in me enough that you were willing to lend your ear to what I had to say. I want you to know I’m so grateful to have you in my life.

I hope you understood from my playing today that I really do love music and I really do think that I have something unique to say. I hope you caught a glimpse of those things. Like how sweet and wondrous music can be, how hopeful and persistent life can be, and somehow, how extraordinarily different and distant human beings can come together to appreciate the same thing. I think you should know, when students in the orchestra saw how big the audience was, they were so excited. Thank you for making their day and thank you for giving them the motivation to be their best. It was wonderful and so much fun to play with them.
Thank you for making this special day even more special, thank you for helping me be brave, and thank you for your love and care.



I couldn’t just delete this:

Placing my little five year old fingers on the black and white keys, I began, with reverent determination and care, to play “Hot Cross Buns.” I was surprised by the bright, vibrant sound that emitted from the piano, and satisfied from the then-demanding but actually infinitesimal challenge. It was the first of my many unforgettable, unbreakable bonding moments with piano playing, a relationship that I am increasingly strengthening, particularly with my studies at the University of Victoria. With each passing lesson, lecture, and performance, I realize that the life of music is the one I wish to live.