#So excuse me if I’m grappling with not one but TWO drastic form changes

[driftingballoons]

Day 2: Evolution

it may not evolution in the typical sense, but they can’t dwell on that right now

@heropartnerweek

[arigatouiris]

daughter of artemis // p.p — [07]

c h a p t e r  s e v e n

Pairing: Peter Parker x Demigod! Reader [Female pronouns]

Warnings: swearing; angst [a lot of it]; greek mythology rewritten [completely my interpretation of it, oops]; slightly based off the games god of war and assassin’s creed odyssey; hurt/comfort; cliche; fluff [on later chapters sometimes]; mentions of sex and gore; slight alternate universe

Follows events after Endgame, but Tony, Natasha, Steve, Loki are alive in this universe.

Author’s Note: Ohohoho~ Finally a proper reveal! Let me know what you guys think! Also, this story may follow FFH plotline (I haven’t watched it yet, I’ve got a show for tomorrow since being an adult sucks and I have no choice but to wait till the weekend to watch it). Anyway, hope you guys like this chapter!

Word count: 4193

07 // θυμός anger

❅

That day she waited for class to end, but didn’t seem too impatient about it. Sitting back, she waited till everyone left class so that it would be easier for her to spot the Hyena janitor. The Hyena henchman was the only henchman who hadn’t seen her, even back in Olympus. So there was no way for him to find out who she was. (y/n) sat back, opened the newest book she was reading, and simply waited. Everyone was already eager to leave, and it would happen soon enough.

However, she felt a presence appear before her. Presence of two, if she was precise. Looking up, her heart skipped a beat as she met the gaze of Peter Parker, and his best friend, Ned Leeds. Smiling instantly, and trying to cover up any signs that she recognized him, she waited for him to say something first.

She still couldn’t believe that she had found him. His eyes were just as they were in her vision; brown and warm, a hug that was invisible whenever he looked at her. He represented all things soft and caring, especially with how awkward he was with his own introduction. She didn’t know who he was to her, but there was something about Peter Parker that made her feel at ease. After all, all those years ago, she held onto his vision as something that comforted her; all those nights she couldn’t sleep, she grappled onto Peter Parker’s brown eyes for comfort.

All of which, he had no idea about.

    “What’s up, Peter Parker?” She liked saying his whole name, like a character off a book that you grow to like as soon as they are mentioned.

    “Ned and I were thinking if you'd maybe, want to watch Star Wars with us?” Ned nodded from the back, looking excited.

She chuckled before cocking her eyebrow confusedly, before tilting her head a bit. Peter looked at Ned who ushered to her once again, impatiently.

    “The movies. They are simply amazing, (y/n).” Peter said, grinning.

    “Especially the fifth and sixth ones.”

    “So many chilling moments.”

    “Even though the prequels might be questionable, Obi Wan makes everything bearable—”

    “Oh and the fights!”

    “Can’t forget how badass Yoda is in those moments.”

    “And I actually like Rey a lot, despite the whole commotion.”

    “It’s like when women are shown as strong in movies, people just get offended and call them names like ‘Mary Sue’ or whatever—”

    “Peter.” (y/n) said, giggling, forcing both of them to stop rambling, and look at her with red faces.

    “So, what do you say?” Peter asked, and she noticed the nervousness in his voice.

Her heart broke as she said, “I can’t today, Peter. I’m sorry.”

For some strange reason, the boy read her tone as cold. As if his entire morale fell, he began to understand why people called her intimidating. It wasn’t intimidation as such, it felt as if no one was on par with her. She wasn’t just regular, there was something special about her (he knew she could fight like a badass, but even more than that). Peter couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Stepping back, he understood where he stands. Ned looked over at his friend and understood his disappointment.

    “I’m sorry.” (y/n) said, but that didn’t help.

    “No, it’s fine! I mean—I get it. Well, see you around.” Peter said, his ears red with embarrassment, and his heart shattered.

    “Come on,” Ned whispered and ushered his friend out of class.

(y/n) watched them leave and kept her gaze fixed at the door even after they had left. Pressing her lips together, she looked down and felt terrible on the inside. Even if she wanted to go with them, she knew she couldn’t. She was fighting to be a God! What use was mingling with mortals? Even if she had seen Peter in her vision, there was no way she could become friends with him. She was well past that now.

Peter on the other hand, took it like a proper rejection. He didn’t have a crush on her per se, but he did definitely want to be friends with her. She found it easier to talk to him when she had nothing to share; almost as if she wants everything about her to be a secret. By being friends with Peter Parker and not as Spiderman, she would have to expose herself more than she would have to expose herself to Spiderman.

And even if he understood this, Peter didn’t quite like it. He felt Ned’s hand on his shoulder and turned to his friend with a glum expression.

    “She’s missing out, pal.” Ned said, offering his friend a kind smile.

Peter smiled back and said nothing. There was nothing to say.

❅

Half an hour had passed since Peter and Ned left the classroom. She could hear absolutely nothing from outside, and she knew this was her chance to take a look. Feeling the dagger inside her pocket, she walked out and spotted the janitor near another classroom, far ahead of her own, and watched him.

Taking a couple of steps toward him, she picked up her pace and walked over to the Hyena janitor, wondering if he could spot her and understand it was her he had to kill.

    “Excuse me,” She spoke, alerting the janitor’s attention. He was blonde haired, blue eyed—a grown up version of the Pigeon boy her uncle had shot an arrow through five years ago. “Have you seen a book titled ‘Leaves of Grass’?”

This was bait. She knew she had to make sure. If he responds to her, then he’s out. She knew of the machines Zeus had built, they were incapable of human communication. They had no soul, they had no emotions. They were vessels that were made for one thing and one thing only.

He stared at her and turned away, continuing to clean an impeccably clean spot on the ground. (y/n) watched as the mop twisted and turned on the floor, before shooting her gaze at the janitor again. This is it, she thought, gripping the dagger inside her pocket.

    “You two are such losers.” She heard a girl’s voice, causing her to freeze at spot. Turning to look ahead of the janitor, she saw Peter, Ned and a curly haired girl wearing a sweatshirt, walking toward her.

She blinked before relaxing once more. She noticed Peter’s expression, which was of hurt, before nodding once at him and turning away. Walking as quickly as she could outside the school, (y/n) felt anger surge through her veins. It would have been easy, she thought as she sprinted out of the school.

    “She definitely doesn’t like me.” Peter said, sighing.

MJ looked at him with a funny expression. Turning away from him, she stared at the ground as they continued to walk outside the school. For some strange reason, MJ didn’t like the girl, who was far too secretive for a teenager to be. It wasn’t just because Peter might have been interested.

As soon as (y/n) reaches home, she kicks the door open and lets out a guttural scream. Her face was red with anger, and her hands were shaking. The only way she could calm down was if she went up to her terrace and trained, and that was exactly what she was going to do. Quickly changing out of her jeans, (y/n) wore black tights, with her regular grey tank top, tied tapes around her hands and ran up barefoot.

She liked being barefoot because it reminded her of how she would run, back in Phokis. Heading to her terrace, she brought the punching bag to a standing position and supported it using rails, and started to punch. Tears filled her eyes each time she thought about missing the chance, but there was always tomorrow.

And tomorrow she wouldn’t just leave.

What felt like hours later, she felt a presence behind her. She knew who it was before she could even think words in her mind. However, she ignored Spiderman and continued punching the bag. She knew he could sense her anger, and she knew he must probably be confused as to why she was so angry, but there was no helping it. Even if this was a vulnerable moment for her, and even if Spiderman saw her at her weakest, she couldn’t stop herself. This was her equivalent for crying.

    “(y/n)?” His voice now seemed strangely familiar.

Turning to face him, Peter noticed the dried tears on her face and waited. Why was she crying? What had happened? She was fine when he had approached her that afternoon, what had suddenly caused a drastic change? Worry filled his veins, but he didn’t want to show it. He was still a tad bit bitter with how she had brushed him off earlier, but now he was starting to think if there was a reason to her being cold.

    “Spar with me, Spidey.” She said, tightening the tapes around her hands. Her knuckles were bloody because of all the punches she had thrown, but she didn’t care.

    “What?” He was confused, and not to mention, shocked. Before he could respond any further, (y/n) ran to him and landed a kick on his chest.

Spiderman fell backwards but got up immediately. He wanted her to stop, but with the way she was raging, he knew words would not reach her. So he decided to defend himself against her until she cooled down. But, he made a mistake in calculating if that would be easy. Her speed was incredible, she landed kicks and punches as if she were trained for years. Grabbing Spiderman’s hand, she twisted it behind his back and kicked the back of his knee, forcing him to the ground.

He winced, and she stopped. Breathing heavily, (y/n) let go of his arm and stepped back. She looked at his form on the ground and then looked at her own hands. He wasn’t even fighting back. Blinking away tears, the girl walked over to the edge of the roof and sat down, as she always would, letting her legs dangle below her. Spiderman followed suite, sat beside her, and waited. He didn’t know why he waited, but he knew she wasn’t okay.

He had never seen her this agitated before. He had always seen her calm and collected, sassy whenever he asked her a question about herself that he knew she wouldn’t answer. But right then, (y/n) was being as transparent than she had ever been before. Spiderman thought that was confusing. She bent down and put her face in her hands, and Peter wondered if she was crying.

After several minutes, “Have you watched Star Wars, Spidey?”

Spiderman was taken aback. He knew she was asking him this to avoid talking about whatever was bothering her, so he decided to play along.

    “Yep. The movies are great! Why, haven’t you seen any?”

She shook her head, sitting back up straight. Her lips were pressed together in a thin line. Spiderman continued to talk.  

    “The movies, they’re simply amazing, (y/n).” Peter said, unconsciously.

(y/n)’s eyes widened instantaneously. Turning to Spiderman, she frowned a bit.

    “Oh yeah?” She asked, waiting for more signs.

    “Yes! The storyline is incredible, and my favorite is Empire Strikes Back, it’s the fifth movie. And in the new sequels, there’s a lot of debate going on as to who Rey is and these characters, they’re going to stay with you forever, you know?”

(y/n) smiled softly before putting two and two together. Before she could say his name out loud, Spiderman got up and apologized.

    “There’s been a robbery at 8th street, I have to go!”

(y/n) smiled at him before nodding once. “Go save lives, Spiderman.”

Spiderman, or in simpler terms, Peter Parker in disguise, shot her a thumbs up before jumping away. He’s Spiderman, she thought as she continued to sit there for a while longer. That’s why both of them were in my vision. Spiderman is Peter Parker. Strangely, this didn’t confuse her, neither did it surprise her. It was as if this information was something she had always known but only forgot. Chuckling, (y/n) went back to training some more.

❅

Apollo entered her apartment with food that night. (y/n) stared at him as he made himself comfortable, setting the food on the table and ignoring her presence. She knew what he was doing, she knew why he was there. Walking over to him, she grabbed a box of noodles and walked away, not saying a word. Apollo glared at her, before deciding to break the silence.

    “What is wrong with you?”

    “People are going to find out you and I are related.” (y/n) said, rolling her eyes and opening the box of noodles.

    “That’s not as problematic as them finding out you’re not entirely human.”

She scoffed before replying, “They won’t,” taking a whole mouthful of noodles, she continued, “I’ve been careful.”

    “Oh really? Then who’s the weird spider suit boy you’ve been chummy with?”

She froze. Looking up at her uncle, and giving him the nastiest glare she could conjure, “He’s a friend. And we know nothing about each other.”

    “Right—”

    “His identity is a secret, and so is mine. We just talk about animals and other stupid stuff.”

Apollo took out his own box of noodles and sat opposite of where his niece was sitting. He was currently wearing a white tee-shirt, casual shorts and his hair was a mess. It didn’t matter, Apollo was a Greek God, he looked handsome.

    “Are you sure his identity is a secret?”

(y/n) ignored him and continued eating her dinner. Taking the hint, Apollo backed off.

    “What do you plan on doing, (y/n)?”

    “What do you mean?” She asked in response, focusing primarily on the noodles.

    “You know. With the henchman showing up and everything.”

    “I’m going to kill him, and the other two, wherever they are. And then I’m going to end Zeus’ reign and become a God. I thought you knew this.”

Apollo nodded once before saying, “What about your father?”

(y/n) froze. Not looking up at him, she said, coldly, “What about him?”

    “You wanted to find him. You came here looking for him.”

There was an uncomfortable silence in the air. Yes, she was hellbent on finding her father and whoever this Pepper person was. But that was years ago. That was before she knew what her mother wanted her to do. Now there was no one else to carry out her prophecy; no one but herself. She had to take a stand. And if she was to become a God, then there was no need for finding her father.

(y/n) licked her lips and finally looked at her uncle in the eye. Placing the box of noodles aside, the girl folded her arms and watched him intently.

    “You know who he is, don’t you?”

The shock presented itself rather clearly on Apollo’s face. (y/n) smirked bitterly before once again starting to eat, shaking her head to herself.

    “I… I don’t—”

    “You brought me here to New York, out of all the places in America, where I meet two of the people in my vision. Tell me, uncle. Why New York?”

Apollo stared at his niece in wonder. How long had she known? When had she figured this out? He gave her far too little credit; (y/n) was a demigod, she was smarter than any other regular mortal. To even think he could keep this a secret from her was silly of him. Apollo felt ashamed, far too ashamed than he had ever felt before.

    “It’s easier to extract information from a mortal. So, mother didn’t tell me who he is. But, you know.”

Tears fill Apollo’s eyes for a strange reason he couldn’t pinpoint. Blinking them away, he hoped his niece’s pain doesn’t convert to a feeling of betrayal.

    “I’m… I’m so—”

    “My mother willed it that I don’t know who my father is. So that he is safe and kept away from all this rubbish. So, let it be that way. And besides, once I become a God, I can’t live a normal human life. Finding my father is completely redundant.”

     “(y/n)...” Apollo let out, without realizing. 

     “I’m not who I was, uncle.”

To think the God of the Sun could feel this sad was absurd, but he felt it. As a matter of fact, he felt practically nothing. He didn’t watch as his niece took the box of noodles and went ahead to dispose it. He didn’t notice her tell him she was going to bed. Apollo sat there, alone, feeling miserable and missing his sister. There was a slight tingle at the ends of his fingers, a tingle he couldn’t remember having ever felt before.

What do I do? He asked his dead sister. What do I do, Artemis? She’s turning into the one thing you never wanted her to become.

Apollo sniffed the tears behind and rubbed a hand across his face.

She’s turning into a God.

❅

It had been close to a month since Thanos was defeated. And yet, for Tony Stark, the fear hadn’t truly disappeared. It was like the feeling after an anxiety attack, there was still a lingering fear that made you worry that something more was to come, but even if you knew that this was all for now, the feeling never quite went away. Tony had imagined victory to feel different from how it felt at that moment, but he was glad nevertheless.

Morgan was asleep by his side and even if he probably could never use his right hand again, Tony was alive and was back with his family; a family he loved more than he could love anything in the world.

He was certain that he would die that day. However, there was something strange that Tony saw that he couldn’t quite tell anyone else about. A voice, right after snapping his fingers. Tony heard a voice he hadn’t ever heard before; the voice of a girl. It felt familiar, but he was also certain he hadn’t heard it, but the familiarity stemmed from it being a nice, warm feeling. He couldn’t remember her words, nor could he remember her face, but she was there. For those few seconds after he had snapped Thanos and his goons into dust, she was there, with him, holding on to him, keeping him alive.

Turning to Morgan, he wondered if the voice belonged to his daughter. Grown up and well, guiding him, shielding him, protecting him and keeping him warm.

Coming back to not being able to feel his right hand, things were quite simple. He hated being handed things, but now things were always being handed to him. He knew for a fact that when he could get up and move about, he would definitely do something about his hand situation. Even if Pepper advises him not to, there was always a rebel living inside Tony’s heart.

The door opened and in came Pepper, offering him a loving smile and turning to their daughter with warmth.

    “She’s asleep.”

    “After listening to the thousandth story for the thousandth time.” Tony retorted.

Pepper chuckled before carrying little Morgan, holding her in her arms.  

    “Someone’s here to see you, Tony.”

    “Please tell me it’s not Steve, I can’t bear to see Steve right now, I don’t even have a—”

The door opened and Natasha smirked, “I’m not Steve.”

    “Oh, hi, Nat. Yes, just walk in, I’m completely fine and don’t have anything on me that is embarrassing or weird.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, “I’m going to ignore that comment.”

    “Sit down, you look distressed. Don’t tell me another creature is here to wipe off the universe. Good thing I still have another good hand.”

Pepper gave her husband a look. “Too soon?” Tony asked, before sighing and leaning back on his bed.

However, Natasha was distressed. On her way to Tony’s cabin, Natasha was heading over to the Stark industries—where the Avengers were still operating. She observed a rather strange person trying to enter Stark industries, a strange symbol on their jacket.

A symbol she had seen from five years ago. The symbol of a wolf, engraved on his jacket, just like a Sloth had been engraved on another jacket. Evading him as smoothly as she could, Natasha knew she had to confirm something, and that could only happen here.

Natasha had almost forgotten about (y/n). She remembered confirming with Pepper about going to Greece years ago, but now she had something to show for it. She couldn’t quite call the world peaceful just yet, having fought one of those crazy mud beasts that were after the girl five years ago. Pepper sat down on a couch with Morgan in her arms, still asleep.

Looking up at Tony, she let out a breath.

    “You’ve been to Greece, right?”

Tony blinks at her. “Loads of times. What is this? A random question and answer—”

    “I remember you asked me that years ago.” Pepper recalled.

Natasha nodded, “Yeah, the art gala thing. Tell me about it.”

    “Nat, is there another threat? Tell me there’s no threat, I cannot deal with another threat right now. Do you understand—”

    “Tony. Answer the goddamn question.”

Pepper looked at Tony and then at Natasha. The way she looked seemed calm, and she guessed that it wasn’t a threat, but something else. Natasha’s inquiries resembled the questions you’d ask a boyfriend on his whereabouts. She stood by the door, folding her arms in front of her chest. 

    “Hmm, well, that art gala thing was close to 20 years ago. There was this incredibly, ahem, attractive woman—”

    “Go ahead, and say the word. I knew you were attracted to her.” Pepper said, with a smile.

    “They were twins. Alec and Aria. Phew. I can’t ever forget her.” Tony said, leaning back, almost mumbling.

    “Why not?” Natasha asked, curious.

    “Well, she told me something very important after we...you know...”

    “You had sex with her?” Pepper asked, surprised.

Tony shrugged before saying, “She told me I loved Pepper. That it was always her. That when I dream, it’ll always be her.”

Pepper’s eyes widened. The blonde woman tried to fight back a smile that was coming her way, but couldn’t. She looked away, blushing.

    “Well, at least she didn’t make a mess of things and call you names for leaving her or anything.” Pepper said, rolling her eyes.

    “No, no. Actually, she was quite relaxed about everything. She wasn’t bitter, she wasn’t trying to make me stay or anything. It was almost as if she was a saint. Nothing bad about her, I’m afraid. I think,” Tony scrunched up his face, “She was the only woman who didn’t try to kill me after we had sex. We actually had a proper conversation after we did the deed.”

    “She had a twin brother, right?” Natasha asked Pepper.

Pepper nodded, “He was incredibly handsome, women everywhere were just fawning over Alec, it was incredible how he didn’t ever lose control of himself like a certain billionaire.” Tony gave his wife a look.

    “Did he look like this?”

Natasha showed them both a picture. It was of a grown man and a girl, almost thirteen years old, their backs facing the camera, standing beside one another, at the edge of a roof. He was turning to her, so his face was visible from the side, but the girl’s face was not.

    “Oh, yes! That’s him. I can’t ever mistake it.” Pepper said, touching the picture.

Tony frowned before asking, “Why do I think that’s not who we’re talking about?”

Natasha smirked at Tony’s response. 

    “This is a picture from five years ago. After the snap,” Pepper and Tony nodded, waiting for Natasha to continue. Black Widow pointed to the girl in the picture and continued, “She’s his twin sister’s daughter.”

Neither of them say a word. It was as if Pepper had already figured it out, as one of her hands flew to her mouth. She looked at Tony, who still didn’t take the hint.

    “Tony,” Natasha pressed. “How many years ago did you go to Greece for this gala? Tell me the exact number.”

Tony looked straight into Natasha’s eyes, “Eighteen. It was somewhere in 2005.”

    “This girl is 18 years old now, Tony.”

Only one word could describe what Tony was feeling. Only one word made sense for the moment. That word was the only response to something like this, which made everyone understand that Tony had understood what Natasha was trying to tell him.

    “Fuck.”

❅

series taglist:

Those I could not tag, I’ve added your urls here!

@maddie-laufeyson​, @mscoloneldanvers​, @https://dancing-flame.tumblr.com, @daughter-of-stark​, @spider-mendes​, @nerdyandproudofitsstuff​, @someonekeepstakingmyusernames​, @alina-margaret​, @yourwonderbelle​, @viarogers​​, @https://huangsushii.tumblr.com, @eridanuswave​ @oliviaisnotlistening​ @mizpotatobiscuits​ @editsbyjenny​ @abbieroseb​ @justtrynagetthroughlife​ @secretlittlewonders​​ @missmulti​ @shallowshawnshallowshawn.tumblr.com  @eunoiametonia​ @adistiany​ @justletmesleeptillidie​ @ppunderoos​ @myheartonthemove​ @heir2chaos​ @honeybutterparker @truthdaze @mvmakki @-thatgirloverthere-@growingthornz @freddies-fried-chicken @jinxedleohttps://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/wrongyuckie @gogoca @kewl-r​ @death-by-viola​ @losersunitetonight​ 

[thiqgruvz]

Interview With an Advanced Music Student

The interviewee requested that this song be linked for your enjoyment while reading. Hope you enjoy!

This week, I’ll be interviewing one of my own music students, a talented young musician and visual artist who grew up both in Iran and in the U.S. She plays the piano brilliantly, with roots firmly planted in both western classical training and the jazz idiom, and with another flavor loosely reminiscent of Persian Traditional music that makes her approach to music making unique. Although she’s not yet 20, her playing is sensitive and emotional in a way that betrays her own breadth of experience and meticulous emotional awareness, much like captivating pull of her gentle yet mysterious shaded drawings. Although she’s requested to remain anonymous, she’s agreed to do this interview with me, for which I’m very grateful and excited, as I feel that her perspective is unique and refreshing, and a wonderfully relatable example of the human experience from living a life colored by an enormous variety of experiences and skillsets (including speaking three languages by the time she was 15) while slowly becoming more and more drawn to an art form until fully committing and rapidly evolving into a force to be reckoned with.

Q: How did you first come upon the piano? I recall you once mentioned that your family moved into your current house and the old owners had left their baby grand piano behind. Did you have access to a piano before that sparked your interest, or was it mostly curiosity until circumstances brought an instrument to you?

A: Actually in Iran, we moved to my grandparents’ house for a year, and we had a piano there because my grandma played piano. I used to dance as she played, and that got me into it. We moved to our apartment and got a piano there, which is where I started taking lessons, but that only lasted a few months. The teacher was sort of mean and she discriminated because she saw me as American. My next brush with it was in school where I got a rudimentary understanding of technique and started getting more into playing.

Q: How about visual art? When did you realize you felt an affinity for drawing?

A: I always liked to draw. My mom really encouraged us to do art and was very supportive of our artistic outlets. Even as early as kindergarten, it was also emphasized in school as well. I took drawing classes in Iran briefly, but it was mostly copying existing drawings and I quickly became bored, but continued drawing and making other visual arts on my own.

Q: When we first met, you already had a solid background in music despite relatively little formal training. Could you describe some of your earliest influences? What caught your attention about musical expression as a whole?

A: Well, my whole family was into music even though they didn’t really play instruments or study. They always had a respect for music and my mom introduced us to music from all over the world, from traditional to pop. My grandmother also used to love to sing and would teach me rounds to sing with her. When I was little, I wanted to grow up and become a musician, although at the time I was focused on vocal. The beginning of my education in public school introduced me to the basic mechanics of instrumental music in the form of melodies and chords on piano.

Q: As you improve as a musician and composer, what aspects of the craft have you realized were drastically more or less reccurrent themes than you thought they would be upon first exposure?

A: Before my public school experiences, I sort of though that music just happened. Like it came naturally and people expressed themselves how they might express thoughts but without the grammar…As soon as I tried writing my own however, I realized that structure was very much a part of it and that I needed to learn about this structure in order to express myself in a controlled way, much like the grammar I thought I was escaping.

Q: Were there things that seemed hard in the beginning but after practice were not, or things that seemed easy, but further nuance or higher standards for technique made difficult? And conversely, did you ever feel an improvement in technique hindering expressive capabilities that came naturally to you before you began training?

A: At first, I found the coordination of the two hands to be extremely challenging. I still think it is, but it definitely improved with practice, although it could be intimidating. I find that on the flip side there is a certain exercise-i-ness that comes into my playing as a result of stricter exercise type things I play during practice. I sometimes wish I could just play and not worry about my technique, but I’m always self-conscious about my technique when it comes to fluidity on the instrument.

Q: As you reach new levels, how has your perspective about the meaning of what you do changed?

A: Um… I’ve definitely taken music more to heart if that makes sense. It’s helped me to appreciate music a lot more as I learned about the challenges and teamwork involved… it made me respect musicians on a whole other level. Through training and becoming more aware of musical concepts, I’ve also really started viewing it more as a spiritual thing than “just music,” whatever that may mean to people. I guess music means many different things for many different people. Once I got really into it, it started to shape my life though and has taught me a lot of self-discipline. It’s also taught me a lot about self-worth and self-esteem. It motivates me to continue in my daily life when I face adversity outside of a musical context.

Q: Do you think your individual sound or identity as a musician relates more to your own cultural lens, such as real life experiences with your family and others in Iran and in the states, or more to the music or other art you’ve consumed and been influenced by? Further, if you think your art is mostly informed by other artists, what role do you believe your own life experiences play in the musical decisions you make? After all, your music is ultimately your expression of yourself in some form or another.

A: I think it’s a bit of both to be honest… I feel like my life experiences help me put more emotion into my work. I’m not really thinking of anything in particular about my life when playing necessarily, but music is absolutely about telling a story, and I think the emotional stories I tell with my music definitely have some basis in things I’ve lived. Listening to other musicians, I’ve definitely borrowed aspects from the work of other musicians that have resonated with me and found my own expression in their voices. I think on some level the collage of my heroes represents me.

Q: I feel like as our level shifts, although we’re always struggling with and working to improve at something, the things we can empathize with, excuse, or even not notice change. As a student who’s rapidly improving and grappling with challenging and complex topics, what advice do you have for students who are a little bit earlier in their journey than you are now?

A: Definitely keep pushing, even if you wanna throw your instrument out of the window. The more I pushed, the more I became competent at expressing myself musically, and I think a lot of my frustrations had come from the inability to do that. Practice things that challenge you, because even if it hurts and makes you feel bad to struggle with something like that, it’s the only way to move forward. That idea of pushing through adversity taught me about the world in addition to just music. Between that and the stories I’ve heard behind particular pieces of music and artists, I realized that music has a profound impact on people and can drive sociocultural change. It really is a universal language, and as a language lover, it’s definitely one I’d like to continue to cultivate.

Q: Certainly there’s overlap between the music you’re playing and studying and the music you’re listening to, but how would you categorize the role of the music we study and analyze compared to the music you seek out for listening pleasure or even encounter in your daily life such as in stores, movies, or the radio?

A: I think the music that we study for analysis benefits me because it teaches me about the history and framework of how music works. I’ve also grown a general appreciation for that, so when I listen for pleasure, I also listen for the structures that we analyze because I find that enriching to my soul. I think it’s really fascinating to see through to WHY we find pleasure in the music that we do and what makes it sound right. I guess I analyze some music just for the purpose of analysis, but I also analyze the music I listen to for pleasure, and I listen for pleasure to the music I analyze sometimes as well, so it all sort of bleeds into each other. To continue to develop our ability to analyze, we have to analyze different types of music to get a better picture of the whole.

Q: Although in an academic setting we describe what is happening in music largely in terms of music theory, and almost separately how the colors found in that theory make us feel in the particular musical context of a song, the most important takeaway is certainly how it makes us feel and what imagery it invokes or what experiences it enhances… What would you say the one primary commonality between all the music that touches you is, if there is one?

A: They all have intent to express. Some musics have resonated with me in the past and later on they didn’t touch me in the same way, but I understand that that’s due to a shift in my own headspace, and those musics are for those people in their headspace, so I think in general the music is for people to empathize with or get inside of or even release from a particular state of being.

Q: How has your musical taste changed since the beginning of your study? Would you describe this as a linear evolutionary process relating to the breadth or your awareness, or sort of a non-linear steeping effect where you learn through osmosis from all the music at once and after the fact apply it to the rest?

A: It definitely shifted the more I listened to a greater variety music. I have a greater appreciation for complexity now because I’m able to derive emotional experience from increasingly complex and nuanced music rather than becoming lost or overwhelmed by it and seeking more accessible forms of solace. Realizing that made me want to improve myself and my mind to be able to connect with it on a deeper level. I admire that it makes me think, and I feel that it’s capable of delivering a more multifaceted emotional picture to such a point where I still appreciate simple music on a mood-making level, but it no longer provides the same emotional stimulation if it ever did, so I’d say it’s been fairly linear yes.

Q: Given that you’re also an excellent visual artist, do you see your music fitting together with your visual art in the future?

A: Aw thank you! I definitely do! Even if I do make standard format albums in the future, I don’t want to reduce my visual art to just album covers. I have to think about that a lot more though, I’m not really sure what final form it will take, but I’ve been tossing around the idea of animated shorts that highlight the themes and imagery in the music to create a multimedia experience for more visual individuals, and to sort of ground some more complex music with an experiential story.