https://everythingspeakstome.com/files/original/3c5c1e5ae0e01dab0d6136a4fdcc04ac.PNG 241aa918d7b777c43c4303819868a82f Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Miami Stories Description An account of the resource Real stories of life in Miami. Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Text Please post your written submission in this field. The images you would like to include should be posted as attachments below. The clatter of the keys, the resonance of the strings, and, most importantly, the sound produced by the instrument itself are what attracted me the most. Although I had heard the piano being played on many occasions, this time, something was different. My body felt like someone inside was jolting in jubilation, wrangling, trying to free himself. Freeing that person is exactly what changed my life. Many people in Miami are pleasant but hard to find. There is a multitude of cultures and interests that blend into the city. People from all around the world are what makes this town a melting pot. Nevertheless, there is enough diversity to the point where we stand out just enough to be unique among those around us. It was a hot summer day in 2017 in Miami, and I was at my best friend Greg’s house. Back then, we would spend our whole days outside playing soccer. From getting rashes after rough tackling and getting wet because of grimy weather, nothing would stop us from playing. All we did was wake up, eat and play soccer. The Grove, a small city southeast of Miami, is filled with restaurants, businesses, and parks open to everyone. On top of that, they also have a fashionable yet very peaceful neighborhood, which happens to be where this story takes place. Greg and I often decided to walk to Peacock Park to play soccer with others. Not only were we too young to drive, but since it was a thirty-minute walk, we usually got to see beautiful big trees planted in the rich soil and feel the ocean's breeze charmingly put its hand on us. The park was located next to a restaurant, which to this day, I still have not visited despite all my endeavors in the park. What’s cool about playing soccer with all these people is that we got to understand different play styles. Many of these people come from South America, but others from Europe and even Africa. Miami is a place of diverse culture, and soccer is something that would bring us all together. There was never a day when I would not learn a new strategy or trick from watching the others play. Sometimes, and this time precisely, we would have the chance to go to a restaurant after our playing session to experience a new type of food while recovering. Cocowalk, a restaurant and shop plaza, was located right next to the park, so it was a very convenient but extravagant place to eat (worth it). There was a public piano in Cocowalk, next to the usual chatter of busy restaurants. Although hunger had been building up inside us for the past two hours, Greg decided to go play on it. With my stomach grumbling, I was a bit frustrated, but I sat and listened to support my good friend. As soon as he started playing, the scenery entirely changed. It was as if his playing mitigated the crowd. It began as a soft and quiet harmony of sounds and slowly kept building up until it sounded like a full orchestra. It was getting faster, louder, and more impressive than anything I had heard. The crowd was as quiet as a mouse and clearly in awe of the performance. Faster, slower, louder, softer, so much emotion in his playing made me feel like I was levitating. By the end, I forgot I was hungry, and the silence blustered into outbursts and cheers. One table had utterly fallen over due to the overexcitement of a woman. It took me a minute to fully process what had just happened. While my brain was figuring itself out, Greg got up and bowed. The others didn’t stop clapping until he moved in my direction. I was speechless. As if nothing had happened, we strode along the decorative sidewalk, peeping through the clean glass windows of restaurants until we found a good fit. We walked past an Asian and Italian restaurant until we found “Sweetgreen,” a place we had never heard of. There are many different types of restaurants in Miami, and we are often used to them, but this was unbeknownst to us. It turns out it was a salad place with bowls having all types of foods. The mix of the tasty flavors was beyond anything I would have imagined for a salad place. While we were eating, I talked to him about the performance: “What you played back there was amazing! How long did that take you to learn?” “Thanks, man. It took me about a couple weeks to learn and an extra month to perfect it.” “I think I want to start learning the piano….” “Yeah, bro, great idea. I see you always looking at me play, but you never play. Give it a shot!” Suddenly, we heard an unfamiliar voice, “Here are five dollars. What you played was the best thing I have ever heard,” he said. It was a tall, bulky guy with brown hair and brown eyes. He had a nice blue suit with a neatly put red tie, wearing bright red shoes which caught my attention. My friend thanked him; seeing someone so lovely was shocking. Miami may have many impatient people, but it’s not all that bad, quite clearly. When is the last time a random guy in a suit gave you five dollars? When we got to his house at night, Greg told me all about the world of music in Miami. I never knew so many people had instruments, and so many people had so much interest in them. “The University of Miami has a state-of-the-art music program for all ages” is one of many things I learned that night. After this interaction, it felt like even more people started playing music. Every day I walked on the streets, there would be people playing the guitar and singing. Others would have a saxophone and jam out in hopes of money. Were these people new, or were they always there, but I ignored them because of my musical neglect? Getting a teacher to start piano lessons was like discovering I had won the lottery. I wanted to play every day to get better. Days turned into weeks, weeks to years. Now, having played well over four years, I feel like it’s my home. Music is not simply MY home. It is a place of comfort for all the people in Miami. We all find a deep connection in it. Not only does music bring us together, but our differences as well. We are all so different, yet that’s what makes us who we are. Greg must have opened my eyes to the harmony of music. Knowing this place is full of musical talents, I strive to find people and guide them to a life of harmonious prosperity, as I now have several years under my belt. I hope to continue this talent, at least as a side hustle; a career might be a bit much. However, I continue to spread music across the city, all while keeping my grit in the passion I love: piano. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Rubato Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Patrick Couto Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 10/03/2022