I recently saw the Michael Jackson documentary, This Is It. What can I say about it? I felt like how I did the very first time I saw Michael Jackson on TV. Awed. Awed at the sheer talent and creativity the man possessed. He was a true artist. Every ounce of passion and energy were devoted to perfecting his craft, his talent. He knew how everything was supposed to sound, look and feel. He didn't need any queues - he would simply "feel" the queues, in his words. He was the King. When he rehearsed Billie Jean, his dancers with their baggy sweats, tees, piercings and tats were like the children they once were, when they saw MJ moonwalk for the first time. Mouths hung open, eyes wide as quarters. It was at that very moment of their childhood that they knew too they wanted to dance. It was as if Michael reconfirmed for them that this is why I want to be here. Michael was frail, but he still had that magic, that "je ne sais quoi." That magic brought me back to my childhood trying to imitate the moonwalk, in my white socks gliding against the hardwood floor... doesn't work as good on carpet.
His magic will live forever in his music. Because, his music is our white socks, our busted up heads from trying to moonwalk when our feet lost its grip, the jheri curl, the band-aids wrapped around the fingers (for my sister)... his music is our memories. And memories are alive.

-Sophia