“I play violin. I teach. I fight. I write. I overthink. And somehow, it all makes sense.”

Lisztomania: (noun) an intense fan frenzy for Franz Liszt, characterized by a fervent passion for his music and an “illness” of obsessive music. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to a place where art and music bring emotions to life, and the hidden sorrows within me find their voice…”

Hey there. I’m Giray Arslan — a violinist, a psychology student, a martial artist, a slightly obsessive researcher, and an incurable romantic when it comes to anything that even smells like art.

My story with music began the way most lifelong loves do: quietly, curiously, and before I knew what was happening. The violin came into my life early, and honestly, it refused to leave. We’ve had our disagreements — mostly over intonation — but we’re still together, stronger than ever. I began giving private lessons when I was just in high school. Something about sharing what I knew (even then, it wasn’t much, but it was mine) just clicked. That teaching spark has never gone out.

Since then, the instruments expanded (hello, guitar and drums), the stages got bigger, and the questions deeper. Why does a certain chord progression ache like a memory? How does silence between two notes say more than the notes themselves? These are the kinds of things that keep me up at night — by choice.

At Koç University, I study psychology — mostly because I wanted to understand what makes us tick, love, break, and create. I’m also the concertmaster of our orchestra, which is a fancy way of saying I get to help lead musical conversations without saying a word. It’s a strange and beautiful thing.

Outside the music room, I train. I hold a green belt in judo and am steadily deepening my skills in Brazilian jiu-jitsu and Muay Thai. There’s something deeply artistic, even poetic, about martial arts — the discipline, the rhythm, the give-and-take. I like to think it balances the romantic in me with just the right amount of raw edge.

I write here because — well, I can’t not write. My curiosity is a bit relentless. One week I’m lost in fugue structure, the next I’m comparing the elegance of 18th-century ornamentation to the emotional chaos of a Mitski bridge. And yes, somewhere in between, you might stumble upon a little essay called The Art of the Flirting. What can I say? I like to keep things interesting.

This blog is a living sketchbook. It’s where I gather the ideas, questions, and fleeting inspirations that don’t quite fit into a rehearsal or a sparring session. If you’re into music, art, psychology, philosophy, aesthetics, or simply the beautiful mess of being human — you might feel at home here.

So welcome. Stay as long as you like. Just don’t expect everything to make perfect sense — I certainly don’t.