How strange it is that music can be as moving as music is. How utterly bizzarre that a collection of notes organized in a certain fashion can bring you to tears. How completely counter-intuitive it is that a certain song can leave you smiling on your hardest days, while another goes un-listened to, because it leaves you devastated. A few plucks on a violin; a handful of keys pressed on a piano. How can the hum of an orchestra leave me so inexplicably full of emotion? Of life? How does a lone cellist make me feel such things, when the same sensations remain so strangely out of reach in my interaction with the rest of the world? Music can make me feel light, and heavy, and dark, and fragile, and strong, and completely and utterly filled with life. All just vibrations in the air. Just a recording. Just a few simple humans doing their job. How?