You’re right, a good roast is like a chord that sticks in your mind. For me it starts with the bean itself – think of each bean as a tiny orchestra. I pick the origin, listen to the natural notes (like the high‑pitch bright citrus from Ethiopia or the deep chocolate hum of a Colombian), and then decide on the roast level to bring out that particular harmony. When I brew, I watch the crema rise like a crescendo, the steam hiss a gentle beat, and the aroma – those volatile molecules dancing in the air – is the melody you’re looking for. I usually note the subtle changes in scent as the roast progresses, almost like reading sheet music. Then, when I write, I let those scents dictate tempo and rhythm. A bright, citrusy roast feels like an upbeat jazz riff; a deep, caramelized one settles into a smooth blues progression. And if you’re feeling extra adventurous, try steaming a shot in a small copper vessel and listen to the hiss – that little hiss is a metronome for your inspiration. Just remember, the best part is savoring the process; the coffee will be your muse, not just a beverage.