The Orchestration of Sophia Singer

Arrangement: Childhood lingers in my mind like words unspoken. The freedom and passion that lies within naivety is wild, natural, and pure. Organic. By car, by spirit, by mind, I am on a journey, a road to my next creation, my next life, my next adventure. Armed with potential, my youth had yet been poisoned by reality which reshapes everything and everyone. Driven by success and the love for everything imaginable, the instinct to do and see all was consuming. The inability to comprehend responsibility and social requirements made the possibilities in life limitless like trees in a forest. The meaning of life soon evolved past surviving to thriving. Unsheltered and flung into a world where most become overly dependant on nature, I was brought into a space where one must only rely on themselves — for survival. I was wild, like the rich green vines covering the forest floor, and I was loud, like the squawking Chukar Partridges that rest atop the African tulip trees. With an intense connection with nature, my biggest desire was to flourish like the wild flowers. I came from nature, I was built by nature, and I live in nature — because we are alike in more ways than not.

Movement: I am composed, held together by mathematical measures, beats, and notes. Each note is a memory, an experience, shaping and composing my being. Each key, black or white, my yin and yang, are expressive. My future stays keys untouched, their stories yet to be told. I can play on as much as I please, though am always confined to pages. Sometimes following the repeat, I rerun the same life chapters, and other times dragged on leaving me in a slew of paper. Stuck between two movements, I now am in constant repetition, benefiting by learning and memorizing the present, imprinting it into my blood, muscle, and bone. At times I mock the grittiness of the sheets of music, with its potential to cut if handled poorly. Despite such we carry the ability to pour emotion into a dull room or life. Despite our harsh exterior we are capable of immense love. Despite our tedious or unsettling semblance, we hold appreciation for life. The two of us, in harmony, capable of moving backwards in time of event as well as forward. Calculated and mathematical, everything is done for a purpose, to set myself up for the oncoming measures and to prepare for the next movement. Life has now become purposeful for reason, not happiness.

Finale: Strength, emotional and mental, can be represented by the architectural art which screams it. Towering buildings and skyscrapers give the appeal of being able to withstand almost anything, demanding respect through its survival and beauty of old age. In this time of age, achieving power and wisdom is probable. Each room of every floor holds a story, a strengthening experience, a piece of wisdom that join together to hold the structure strong and tall, keeping it thriving. Anything could go on inside, the destruction of a marriage, the start of one, a child’s first birthday, to someone’s last. However, the state of the construction always stands still and calm from the view of any onlookers. Years of emotions could be brewing through time, though cease showing themselves any longer with age and reason. Earthquakes often rock the construction as they do people, yet few fall. As the age of someone stretches on, they fill themselves with more memories, adventures, and thoughts. Their mind begins to open, but their core value never wavers like the structure’s foundation. Time quite often takes the hand of stability, creating a parallel between the two. Every building is stable, reliable, and stands proud. They scrape the sky quite literally with their soaring ideas, beliefs, and thoughts.