My music, for example.

And I want my music to be with you.

Why the hell are you turning my music off! I'm just barely getting the vibe and getting some steps out!

Do I write stuff for specific rooms?

I thought my music would soothe your pain.

Besides your wish, since I can't sing to please myself... but only songs to suit the Hawk, my music's as good as outlaw... and wherever my music goes, I follow.

If I were here playing cello, or playing on a synth, or sharing my music with you,

So I asked myself Do I write stuff for specific rooms?

These OperaBots follow my music.

What most people know about me, they know through my music.

I have always loved music and I am excited to be able to conduct my own music with this new software.

Why not use all this instrumental knowledge that I'm acquiring to write my own music?

Anyway, I was really delighted to receive the invitation to present to you some of my music and some of my work as a composer, presumably because it appeals to my well known and abundant narcissism.

And I'm going to share my music with you, but I hope that I'm going to do so in a way that tells a story, tells a story about how I used boredom as a catalyst for creativity and invention, and how boredom actually forced me to change the fundamental question that I was asking in my discipline, and how boredom also, in a sense, pushed me towards taking on roles beyond the sort of most traditional, narrow definition of a composer.

They observe the action. We've designed these square robots that we're testing right now at MIT called OperaBots. These OperaBots follow my music.

If I were here playing cello, or playing on a synth, or sharing my music with you, I'd be able to show things about myself that I can't tell you in words, more personal things, perhaps deeper things.