I wasn't born to be a writer of words.  I'm not always terribly insightful, nor am I the most eloquent being.  When I write, however, it is nearly always of my experiences.  Sometimes it helps ease the pain.  Sometimes it enhances whatever joy I'm living.  Sometimes it does nothing more than aid me in remembering what I did last night, or last week, or even further back in time.

My life was meant to fill the world with another art.  My real passion is music.  It does, on occasion, move me to words.  The emotion of music can never be fully described on paper, but attempting to do so gives me focus; endeavoring to explain the myriad expressions on the face of a pianist who is truly in love with his music is difficult, and inexplicably rewarding once it is accomplished.

I have had very little hardship in my life.  With an upbringing which surpasses most in love and nurturing, I was never in a position of need.  I have not, though, been given each of my successes on a silver platter.  I enjoy the chanllenges of life; I am fond of the triumphant feeling that creeps up from the pit of my stomach when I've succeeded in overcoming those challenges.

My newest challenge will be to make a positive impression on those few readers who will see these works.