A tap in your foot, a slight ring in your ear, a beating hum in your chest… When you listen to music, what do  you feel? Empowered? Lonely? Happy? Like an old friend has just shown up for a visit, or you’ve just met someone new? When I show an audience a piece of my music, it is not just notes on a page turned into sound. It is a part of me that I want to share with others. More importantly, I want you to feel something, whether it is comfort, sadness, joy, or anger. Do you know what your soul sounds like? Mine is a cello, nestled in a drawer full of socks and filled with the warmth of coming inside after a walk in the snow. Music comes in many forms, but it is common in our culture to associate it with communication. I compose music because I can communicate a message or a feeling better musically than I can verbally. It holds more weight and can mean different things to different people. I appreciate knowing that one listener can gain an experience and understanding of my lyrics that is specific to their circumstances, an experience which is unique from the person beside them or even myself. While emotions drive my compositions, what inspires my love for music is music theory, what I call the science and math of music. Whether analyzing the subjects of a fugue or finding two different pop songs that have the same chord progression, knowing the structure and motives of a piece of music brings me closer to the composer’s intent. I also have a firm belief that anyone can write music. I’m not saying that everyone can be a successful film composer or write the next top 40 hit, but if you have a strong desire to write a song, or a piano sonata, or an opera, the tools are there for you. From popular songs on the radio to a common waltz, so much of the music exposed to us is created from the same rules rules of melody and harmony. Once you understand those basic building blocks of music, with a little dedication, you can write music.
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