Ever since I took up the guitar about a year and a half a go I've skipped my mid-life crises because I'm so happy strumming.

Without dreams of fame or fortune just appreciation for making a D minor chord blend with  its cousin,  A minor. I feel transported.

My guitar is not on display in the living room for show. It's for playing. I practice for fifteen to thirty minutes daily.

At first my family was incredibly supportive. Now I have to give them warnings before I play. The sounds of doors closing sharply throughout the house make their own kind of music.

Lately, I notice that even the cat leaves the house, slipping though a hole in the screen door, to take refuge in the garage, safe from my sounds under holiday wrappings.

While my guitar playing may sound like noise to them, for me the sound couldn't be sweeter. Nor I any happier.

To my family and anyone who hears me playing while passing by, I promise to try and lower the volume. And, I might add, "Rock on!"

By Dawn Yun

By Dawn Yun