The melodies that echo in my soul.  The songs that vibrate to the rhythm of my heart.  The words that cascade like waves of water on the ocean sand.  These are the things that I dream of.  The things that I live for.  The purpose of my life.

Nothing, nothing in the world comes close to the sounds of a beautiful song that I can share with the people who appreciate beautiful music. 

We will only end war when we can beat the bombs and bullets and bayonets into drums and violins and clarinets.

From the time I was a little boy or a little girl, I wanted to be on a stage singing my heart out.  I wanted to write music that others would sing their heart out for.  I am the Everyman of Song.  I am the Everywoman of Song.  I am the person who would rather sing than fight.  I am the person who would rather compose songs than construct bombs. 

I am a singer.  I first started singing when I was eight years old.  I sang in the church choir along with my mother.  I had dreams of becoming a solo singer on stage with thousands of fans applauding me.  I went to college with these plans but somewhere along the way, I realized that I did not have the talent to become a professional.  However, I never gave up singing or playing.  I still sing in my church choir, and I still play several instruments.  I play a dulcimer and a ukulele with a musical group in Tucson.  Music has never become boring for me.  I have never been burnt out playing or singing.  It is over almost seventy five years since my first church choir.  Music is a hobby for me, but I don’t know what I would do without it.  I will keep playing and singing as long as my voice and fingers hold out.  

I am a singer.  I started singing in high school.  Everyone told me what a great voice I had.  I organized a small  bluegrass band, and we played at several local events.  When I graduated high school, I had a scholarship to go to a college in California.  Instead, I decided to see if I could make it big in the music world.  I started a new band with some instrumentalists who were damn good.  We all knew that we could make the big time.  My family and friends cheered me on.  We started playing bars, honky-tonks and even a few casinos.  Eventually, we went to Nashville to cut an album and see if we could get it played someplace.  It has been several years now.  We still do gigs at places locally whenever we can.  It is not a lot of money, but it keeps us going.  Several band members have left and been replaced.  All the rest of us still dream of “being discovered” and hitting the big time.  I don’t know what else I could do now.  Music is in my blood, and it is the only thing I have to give to the world.  I guess I will keep on singing until I die. 

I am a singer.  When I was four years old, my parents hired a voice coach for me.  When I was ten years old, I did my first professional gig for a local wedding.  I went to a high school where I played lead in Annie Get Your Gun, Cats, Les Misérables, Mama Mia and Into the Woods.  In several other productions, I had minor roles.  My entire high school life revolved around studying, practicing and performing.  Since my parents had money, there was no question that I was going to go to the Juilliard to further my musical career.  Everything went as planned.  I even did some summer stock shows in-between my time at the Juilliard.  When I graduated, I looked for work on Broadway.  I soon found some minor roles but none of the leading roles even as a backup.  It is several years now, and I am still doing mostly minor roles.  I am not ungrateful because I am still doing what I love and being paid to sing.  My dreams are still out there that someday and someday soon, I will get the right role and stardom will be mine.  Singing has been my life and stardom or not, I will never give it up. 

I am a singer.   I am one of the most famous pop singers in the world.  I have twenty-four-hour bodyguards.  I have a chauffeured limousine.  I only dine at the most exclusive restaurants.  I have three homes.  One in Beverly Hills, one in the Hamptons and one in Miami.  I am never without a legion of handlers, coaches, lawyers, would be friends and unknown relatives.  I thought being rich and famous and attracting audiences of more than 50,000 fans would be an aphrodisiac.  Instead, it has become more like a poison pill.  A slow lingering death.  I wanted to sing songs that I love but my producers tell me what the fans want to hear.  I get tired of singing the same songs over and over again.  My producers tell me that this is the cost of fame and I should be grateful.  I was grateful once that God gave me the voice I have that so many other singers envy.  I once enjoyed singing in the rain, singing in the shower and singing to my loved ones.  Now it often seems like just so much work.  I dream of running away someplace where no one knows me.  Maybe there, I could sing when and what I want to.  I have to go now; I have another performance to do.  What else can I do?  I was born to sing.

I am a singer.  Whether our audience is twenty people gathered in a church basement, two hundred friends at a county fair, two thousand in a Broadway theater, or fifty thousand in a packed stadium, we all begin in exactly the same place—with a song in our hearts that simply has to come out.  Fame may change the surroundings, wealth may change the comforts, and success may change the pressures, but it never changes the reason we first began to sing.

Long after the applause fades, long after the fans leave, the music remains in our hearts.