I just finished my eighth grade piano. And I found a new piano teacher. So my mom had found this new piano teacher, everybody said she was very, very good. So I worked really, really hard because I wanted to impress this piano teacher. So I worked hard every single day, I practice three, four hours in the two weeks leading up to the very, very first lesson, and I prepared a program of four pieces. I walked in, and I see this woman and she is stern, strict. There was no smile on her face. And she said to me, “Come in.” I walked in, I remember so clearly, it was a, it was a black Yamaha piano. And as I sat down, she said, “What do you have to play?” And I said, “Well, I’ve got a Bach English sweet that we can play.” And then she said, “Okay, begin.” And I played three notes, dum bum bum, the right hand, three notes dum bum bum. And she said, “Stop!” And I was like, “Did I do anything wrong?” She said, “Do it again.” I did it again, dum pum pum. “Stop! Do it again.” Dun dun duh. “Do it again!” And this would go on for about 10 minutes. And my mother and I would look at each other completely bedazzled, confused, unsure of what’s going on. And after about two to three minutes of this, she said, “Stop,” And I’ll never forget this moment, she grabbed the piano lid. And she shut it. And I sat there and I was looking at my mom again. I was like, “Did I do something wrong? Did did? Did I play something wrong?” And she asked me, “Steven, when you play, what do you think about? What do you think of? What comes to mind?” And I said, “Well, I think of E, A, and A”. And she looked at me. She’s like, “No, not the notes. What do you think about?” And I’m like, “What do you mean, not the notes because the notes are all I know, it’s E, A, and A.” And, again, this interaction would go on for about a minute until I realized that what she was trying to say is, what emotion do I think about?