For those of you who are wondering, I'm half Korean, half Caucasian.
I enjoy playing the piano, drawing, and many other things. Just in case anyone was interested about how I came to love playing the piano, I wrote an English essay about my journey as a musician and it pretty much describes me. Here it is:

Work and Play

I have been playing the piano for eight years and I still play. The piano interested me ever since I was a child. How the simple pressing of a key could make sound; how the combination of keys could create music; how music could be the ultimate form of expression.

I found the piano particularly interesting because, unlike many other instruments, many notes could be played at once. This meant that a piece arranged for multiple instruments could be played by a single person. The idea that it was possible to play almost any piece I heard, pieces I knew, pieces I enjoyed, was appealing to me. I soon began to take lessons, inspired to learn more about playing piano. As my knowledge in piano playing grew, so did my passion for music. Lessons were opportunities to make my music more complex, more sophisticated, more articulate, more meaningful. From my lessons I learned pieces such as Pachabel's Canon and Für Elise. I enjoyed them, I recognized them, and I could make them my own. Music was fun and was a way to express myself that words cannot describe.

After a few years, as the difficulty of the pieces grew, and my recognition of the pieces faded (since I did not listen to classical music), my interest in piano began to disappear. Each key was nothing more than a faint whisper; each piece was nothing more than an ancient chant; music was a lost language, its meaning long forgotten, obscured by time.

Music seemed like a chore. My parents had suggested that I stop taking lessons because I did not practice enough (0-20 minutes a day) to get anything out of the lessons. Even though my parents urged me to either practice more or quit lessons, I did neither one. Of course, I did not want to purposely disobey them, I just couldn't play anymore. I would make excuses to get away from piano practice, "I have to do homework" or "I want to eat something first" (and then go somewhere else as soon as I finished). I wanted to quit, I wanted to stop practicing, stop working, but something wouldn't let me quit, I couldn't, I wouldn't.

I kept taking lessons. My teacher taught me where to grow and fade, where to lift and drop my arm weight on the keys, how to phrase almost every measure to make the piece interesting. I didn't think about expression or what I was doing, I just did what my teacher told me to do. There was no emotion, only artificial action that I inserted into the pieces. The music was not my own. My sound was mechanical. Music was a chore.

When I went to high school, one of the students in the same orchestra class as me introduced me to sheet music. I could find virtually any piece on the internet, print it, and play it. At this point, the one thing that caused me to play piano when I was a child leapt back at me. I was excited because I once again remembered that pieces I knew and loved could be played on the piano. I began to play music that I knew, music that I enjoyed, music that wasn't bound by practicing time or judges in competitions. I played more and more every day to the point where my parents, who had encouraged me to practice more piano, actually began to encourage me to play less.

Although I found my interest in music, I hadn't found my own heart for the pieces I played. I had forgotten how to put my own expression, my own emotion into what I played. I decided to teach myself how to play a classical song called Fantasie Impromptu by Chopin, a piece that I wanted to learn, that I could express in my own way. As I played through the piece, I put my own emotion into what I played. I began to learn more pieces that I enjoyed. As I played a variety of different pieces, I began to realize through which pieces I could truly express myself; pieces which give music such a powerful influence, such an unmatchable method of expression. I learned that the pieces that have the ability to reveal my entirety through music are pieces which I play not to impress others, pieces I play not to compete, pieces I play not because someone wants me to; but pieces that I want to play, pieces I enjoy, pieces that are meant to be beautiful and full of expression, pieces that are meant to be played, pieces that are meant to create music. I found that it is in those pieces that expression can be found in the most pure form. I have been playing the piano for eight years and I still play.

I still play.