After I’ve showered and rested for a while, Julian leads me to the grand piano by the windows, where we sit on the bench. He wants to show me how he writes music. “We don’t always compose and write about ourselves, do we?” he asks. I nod and smile. “Sometimes we write about what we see, or maybe you’re a patriot who wants to write a song about your country. There are many themes to choose from. Let’s start with using your senses. How do you feel about your surroundings right now?” “Um...” I survey the penthouse, the living area, the fireplace, the piano, and even the lights. “It’s peaceful, cozy, and dim, but not sad.” I shrug as I look out the windows. “It is still rather chilly outside because of the snow, but here it is quite warm.”
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