Kelsey: Chicago, Illinois

Musicians are a fun bunch to photograph. If you've ever seriously studied an instrument, you know that it becomes an extension of your body. You are no longer two separate entities. It is instead the embodiment of your soul, your emotions, your music. It gives voice to things that cannot be said with words. I know, because my flute is and will always be an extension of me. It is the way that I communicate the beauty, happiness, and pain that need be expressed. And so it is with Kelsey and this beautiful, well-loved violin.

Kelsey and I attended the same church as children, and sang in the church choir during our years there. I knew her as one of the younger kids and always thought lovingly of her and her peers as my little choir sisters. We had all gone through the same traditions, vying for the coveted "Once in Royal David's City" solo as a 6th grader on Christmas Eve, and working hard for our Royal School of Church Music medals. It has been years since I've seen Kelsey, but because of our connection, our years of making music together, it felt as if no time at all had passed. A shared passion can bring any two together. For us, it is the desire to make beauty through sound. 

These photos are of Kelsey, true. But they are also of Kelsey the violinist, the musician. They are of her and her dear old friend made of wood and strings (not to be confused with Pinnochio). It is said that one should not focus too much love on an object, but the love for an instrument is so much more than love for a material thing. It is love for the access it gives to one's soul.