I believe you are not one thing. You are a keeper of memories and a chaser of the unexpected. You contain multitudes…the version of you that needs silence and the one that needs to dance, the evening that asks everything of you and the afternoon that gives it all back. You save things too: the ring from a trip with your grandmother, a line scribbled on a napkin, a recipe from an old magazine. And you find beauty where nobody else thinks to look: in a painting in a museum nobody visits; a menu from a restaurant that closed in 1987; a wrong turn that took you somewhere better.