Nothing could prepare me for how isolated and vulnerable I was about to become. I had practiced my part of the piece “Water Night” (Alto 1) for a month with the conducting track, and at this moment it had become like a mantra. It was the night of the original deadline for video submissions, and a massive number of people had recorded their videos - so massive that the Virtual Choir website crashed, leaving the procrastinators like me (temporarily) unable to record and bombarding the technical crew with worried questions (Why is this happening? When will I be able to record? etc) - so the deadline was extended a day (we were told after the original deadline). How incredible that was, to have so many people want to be a part of this global video that the website crashes - it’s an example of what humans will do to connect with others, whether through music or some other activity. Fortunately on the Virtual Choir Facebook page, I noticed that someone mentioned an option of recording your video on YouTube while singing along with someone else’s YouTube video of the same voice part. So I took a deep breath to slow my freight-train speed pulse, and decided to do it that night. There was something nagging within me telling me to not miss this opportunity like before (I had computer issues and laryngitis near the end of the deadline for the last two Virtual Choirs, so I was not able to record a video - once again, procrastination’s fault). I warmed up, closed my eyes, took a few deep breaths, and internalized the music. The next thing in front of me was a video of a young woman singing the Alto 1 part in a computer window, which I had used as a pitch guide, and, let’s face it, a confidence booster. After a few adjustments with my computer camera, plugged in my headphones, I began to sing with the young woman’s video. As I sang the part, I realized that I was singing alone in my room, yet I was not entirely alone in spirit - even though I have never met this young woman in my life, and don’t know her name or age or where she is from, we sang the same together. After recording, I watched and listened to the video. The end result was a video with some pitch fluctuations, strange facial expressions (almost pained), and a strange camera angle up toward my face, making me look like a ridiculous giant. But it was me, and I had put myself, my being, and my voice out for others to hear and see. In this moment I have made my self the most vulnerable that I had been in many years, perhaps in my whole life. Knowing that there was no time left, and that there was no time better than the present, I decided to send this video - my video - out to the Virtual Choir team and to composer Eric Whitacre. Knowing that they would see a video of a then 23 year old woman who has had no prior training in singing, made me exhilarated (I could not sleep properly for a week from excitement) and even more unsettled (remembering all of the tiny mistakes and blips in my video get irking me). After waiting for the longest two months, I find out that my humble video was accepted! Once the completed Virtual Choir video was aired a month later, I was once again astounded by the sound - aside from the captivating music and text, there in the video was the sound of the World, as one would imagine the sound of all humans living on Earth connecting as one, with all of their joys, sadness, struggles, strength, and heart.  This message, this thought, makes this project more than just about the music and the art. It is something more - that need as humans to connect with others, and meet complete strangers (which is what the Virtual Choir members are doing now, thanks to the internet, Facebook, and Google+). It is about humans connecting and reaching out in one common goal, in unity, understanding, and harmony (no pun intended). It is about remembering that even though separated by countries, oceans, and time zones, we humans exist with their own lives and hardships. And when we do connect as a human race, something incredible occurs.