My little brother---for the purposes of this lj, Elessar---is growing up. It's so peculiar to watch as he steps slowly into his own personality, the nebulous shades and shapes of his Self gaining brilliance and edge and depth.

Recently, he's discovered music. I mean, he's always been aware of it---you can't live in my house and escape music---but he's listening closely now, intent on defining likes and dislikes. I watch him picking his way through my music collection and can't help remembering how, at four, he swiveled his little hips and played air guitar to the Eagles. Each moment I see a new facet of his future, and I laugh, delighted, amazed, that so many of them are mirrors, reflecting my sisters or my parents or even myself.

He peruses the liner notes, frowning at the lyrics, unsatisfied with simply listening for the sounds. He likes folksy guitar and loves funky, upbeat melodies to which he can solve math problems. And the singing! Nonstop. Not precisely tuneful, but pleasant all the same.

How dear you are, Elessar.

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