"A painter paints his pictures on canvas. But musicians paint their pictures on silence." This quote by Leopold Stokowski could not better describe the passion that I have for my art. Over my last eleven years as a cellist, I've had time to reflect on art, emotion, and the profound intrapersonal connection that music fosters. To me, music is so much more than a series of tones being played in rhythm. Rather, music is the breath of life and the heartbeat of the soul. I cannot explain the deep bonds, friendships, and solace that I've discovered through music. I will never forget when I was handed my instrument for the first time. I stood in a small house that smelled strongly of oak and cedar. My parents talked quietly with the lutheir while browsing different instruments that he had crafted. Finally, I was told to sit on a small chair, and my first cello was placed into my hands. As I felt the cool wood beneath my fingers, a silent understanding passed through my little mind. This object that I held was more than a lifeless piece of wood; it was a living, breathing piece of art. Although I didn't know it at the time, it was to become my lifelong companion. Throughout the years, the bond between my instrument and myself has only grown stronger. I always knew that I wanted to continue playing music after high school, but the decision to go into music as a career was a heightened level of commitment that brought me closer to my art than ever before. Despite the personal challenges and outward skepticism that I knew I would face, I couldn't imagine pursuing a path in any field other than music. Why is music so important, you ask? Picture this: what if you were to take a random person walking past you on the street and scroll through their recent plays on Spotify? Repeat this process one hundred times, and you've captured a diverse range of tastes, from classical to K-pop to rap and country blues. Music is not simply enjoyment; it is the fabric and grain of culture itself. Consider a famous artist, such as the Beatles. As they performed, they did so much more than just create a vivid concert environment for fans. When they performed, they created a setting where people from all different backgrounds could come together and connect over art. Music not only brings the general population together and creates culture, but it also forges strong friendships and deep bonds. Every one of my closest friends is someone whom I have connected with through music. Whether that be my stand partner in orchestra, my quartet members, or my songwriting buddies, each person has a special place in both my life and my heart. Often, these friendships seem almost accidental. You didn't mean to connect; you never meant to enjoy each other's company. But then music steps in and rewrites the score, completely violating all of your predetermined expectations. Throughout the years, these friends have been there for me not only at the big concerts and recitals, but also during the smaller, less visible moments in my life. These are the people who check up on me after I've had a rough week or offer support in a stressful season. These individuals have become an irreversible part of my life that I will never stop being thankful for. Most of all, music is a powerful way for us to express our identities and reveal our true faces to one another. As an aspiring artist, I cherish the moments when I step into the stage lights and look out into the sea of faces. Each performance is a privilege to take my audience on a wordless journey of the heart. As world-renowned cellist Yo Yo Ma once remarked, taking the stage "[is] not about proving anything. It's about sharing something." Performance is never about showing off; it's about connecting with others through the beauty and vulnerability of art. Even as I perform, I will continue to invest in those around me through music. I plan to teach students in one-on-one lessons, helping guide them in developing their own unique voices. It is so important to me to give back what has been given, and the gift of music is no exception. My teachers continue to shape me into the person that I am becoming, both as a musician and as an individual. They have instilled in me the values of hard work, humility, and kindness. Throughout my childhood, I played in many retirement homes and hospitals at my teachers' insistence. They have taught me to reach toward others and provide comfort and hope through music, no matter what circumstances I find myself in. Ultimately, music is so much more than just an art form for me. Music is a force that drives individuals together and forges bonds that would never exist otherwise. It is what inspires people to continue on despite the challenges that life is sure to bring. It's a balm to the souls of those who are hurting, and a fulfillment of the desires of the heart. Music has changed my life in so many ways, and I long to freely share this amazing gift with the world.

I still remember the first time that I realized life wasn't going to get better. My sickness would never leave me. I would never experience the fullness of health that I so envied in everyone around me. Life with a chronic illness is mentally jarring. Those of us who live with this reality carry invisible scars that others cannot see and often do not understand. It's a cruel isolation that can easily lead to severe depression. When my conditions started developing in my early teens, they quickly began to disrupt my daily life. I couldn't hang out with my friends in the same way, and I often felt like the odd one out. I tried to ignore my new reality, but eventually, the illusion shattered. Earlier this year, my life came to a jolting halt. I was in the midst of difficult circumstances that led to severe stress and anxiety. My schedule was overloaded, leading me to a constant state of overcaffeination, exhaustion, and restlessness. Each night, I fell asleep knowing that I would wake up with pain still haunting me. It was a cycle of mental torment; each day felt like a grinding repeat of the last. Finally, with my body in terrible pain and my mind beaten and weary, I sought out medical help. Confronting my conditions was scary, and the process of accepting them was perhaps even harder than enduring the physical pain. At first, it felt like things couldn't get better. But with time, my doctors helped me to establish a new normal. Once safely in recovery, I began to see the tiny flame flicker back to life. Life felt frozen in a fragile balance, only one slip away from breaking. But gradually, my mind and body began to heal. During this time, my friends and family were a huge encouragement to me. Even when no one else seemed to understand, they were a support to me in every way possible. Now that I'm used to living with and managing my conditions, I can say with certainty that I've experienced the light at the end of the tunnel. However, the most encouraging part has been realizing that I'm not alone in this battle. Over the past few months, I've discovered that several of my close friends share similar conditions to mine. Even at camp this summer, I met many people who are battling various illnesses. Initially, I thought it would be scary and even embarrassing to talk openly about my conditions with others. I worried that I might come across as strange or different. But when I took the chance to let others see me fully - conditions and all - I experienced the most amazing acceptance. I'm so thankful every day for the wonderful people who surround me and give me hope to continue on. I want to be that same source of encouragement in all of my friends' lives, no matter what they're struggling with. My hope is to bring joy to those who are navigating their new normal. Together, we can excel despite our limitations and make a difference for good in the world.