I’m still not quite sure how it happened. One minute I am covering my ears in pure agony, and the next, part of my soul is missing. The music… Oh, the music! The high pitch squeals of the trumpet that used to send me to the edge of my seat, ready at the first opportunity of escape now sang to me; a sweet, sweet lullaby. The deep base of the trombone that used to send me plummeting into the deepest sea of despair now sparked a fire in me hotter than the furnaces of hell. The steady beat of the drums that used to wrack my brain, threatening to slowly steal my sanity, now caused uncontrollable spasms in my muscles. Lost in the confusion of the ups and downs, the highs and lows, I unknowingly began to sway. Deep in my subconscious, I felt the pull of this sound, my movements becoming more defined. I was dancing! My eyes, wide in amazement now, saw nothing but colors: the deep crimson of the sax, the steady black and white staccato of the cymbals. Laughter erupted from depths of me I have never known to exist. A wave of emotions crashed over me: Passion; Sorrow; Joy; and most of all, Love. Love for this sound, this feeling. Love for all things jazz. And so it began.