Cherrie (刘宸妤)

Every time I switch on my iPod, I close my eyes and travel with my eardrums.

Sometimes I picture a man singing hoarsely. Sometimes, I see a woman in a black dress playing a crystal violin.

In Shenzhen, many people never get to know their neighbors or colleagues. Everybody moves too fast, even eating breakfast on the way to work.

In this dynamic city, music is my sanctuary. When I stand in the subway station without music, I can hear nothing but heels cracking, people shouting, and trains roaring.

A Chinese city is an insanely noisy place. Music is the best escape from modern society.

Muses, the goddess Euterpe, could laugh, cry, dance, or gaze out of the window. Noise garbles the mind. Music was used by humans as a means of communication long before we began to form civilizations. For me, to be without music would be a cruel and unusual punishment.

When I get home in the evening, having traveled on the crowded subway and through the noisy streets, I see my mom working in the kitchen. I close my eyes to appreciate the musicality of her spatula hitting the pan.

“Hi, mom. I’m back. Sorry I am a little late.”

Stepping into the kitchen, I hug her and listen to my heart sing.