When I am asked what I am doing with music, I invariably must pause. As a nineteen-year-old violinist enrolled in conservatory, I am over the hill by soloist standards. Since Midori in the eighties — really, since Mozart in the (seventeen) fifties — there has been a fascination with the child prodigy that for many musicians over the age of twelve presents a real dilemma. I know at this point I will most likely not be the next Hilary Hahn. At my age, she had already hit the international scene and was well into her career as concert soloist. If I had any desire to be an internationally acclaimed soloist, I might as well have thrown in the towel five years ago.