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blogofabard · 3 years

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Beet-huh?-ven

a definitive text by Anne Lilly

An artist’s worst nightmare is to be deprived of their sight. Painting and creating masterpieces from what they see is what brings justice to their title. Similar to a musician, they must hear the notes, the tune, the rhythm of a song in order to properly produce one. So, when a musician loses their sense of hearing, it would not only prevent them from creating music, but it would also pain them for not being able to continue their passion.

However, there is one composer that most of us know, who continued to pursue his passion despite his gradually worsening illness.

Ludwig van Beethoven was a famous German composer and pianist during the late 1770s to the early 1800s and the most known for his works like Symphony No. 5, Fur Elise, and a lot more. He was considered as one of the greatest musical geniuses of all time; even performing his own concert at the age of 7 (Biography Editors, 2014).

Beethoven’s career was to perform his compositions on stage for thousands of people. However, he experienced an unexpected turn in his life. Beethoven began hearing buzzing sounds in his ears at the age of 26 and wrote this experience to a friend through a letter when he was 30. After several years, his hearing got worse until he became completely deaf. Deafness is the complete loss of hearing from one or both ears (WHO, n.d.).

Deafness is a musician’s worst nightmare and yet, it did not prevent Beethoven from composing music. Although he did experience difficulties and the tone of his songs changed, he still continued to pursue his passion for writing music with the use of his memory and imagination.

Beethoven passed away at the age of 56 but his compositions are still alive up to this day. He is the example of someone who never gave up on his dreams, no matter how difficult his situation became.

Your passion is not something you should take for granted because it is who you are and what you love. So, put out your instrument, write a song, and show the world what you are capable of.

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blogofabard · 3 years

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Music for One, One for Music

a descriptive text by Anne Lilly

It tugs on your heart when you feel its message.

It can make you tap your feet when you hear its repetitive beats.

It brings weight to your chest in the most unexpected ways. It can comfort you when tears are trickling down your eyes.

It can bring you close or bring you away.

It can return lost memories, it can bring you nostalgia, and yet, this is not something you can hold but you can still feel its presence around you.

It may bring you grief, joy, excitement, or comfort when you need it. Once your ears are allured, you are sure to crave it.

These are the effects that music has on us. While we all enjoy listening to music, people have different music tastes and I am not an exception to this.

My music taste includes indie-folk, pop, indie rock, lo-fi pop, or any acoustic song with emotional lyrics. Songs with these genres tend to evoke sentimental feelings to the listener and gives them a sense of longing or sadness.

As strange as it sounds, I am not craving sadness or feelings of regret. However, I do enjoy feeling strong emotions whenever I listen to songs because it gives me a sense of comfort that other songs cannot provide. This is the impact music has on me.

Whenever I’m traveling, I prefer to put on my headphones and listen to a playlist I made while looking out the car window.

Gazing at the scenery, seeing the motion of the trees as the car drives by, and the thought of how the scene would change over the years perfectly matches the presence of music in the background.

Listening to music while painting also increases my creativity especially when the tune is synchronized with the mood of my artwork because it makes me comfortable.

While this might be the case for me, some people do not experience music the way I do because they have different ways of expressing themselves. Some enjoy upbeat and energetic music, some enjoy sentimental music, and some enjoy heavy metal.

The way you enjoy music depends on you alone.

Music is not bound to one genre because, despite our differences, it is a universal language that can bring us together.

some song recommendations:

风之花 (Bloom of the Wind)

Come With Me - Chxrlotte

Morning Light - Rebel on a Rainbow

Way Back Home - Shaun

Soldier, Poet, King - The Oh Hellos

Levitating - Dua Lipa

Classic - MKTO

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blogofabard · 3 years

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Lullaby of a Bard

a short story inspired by Genshin Impact

written by Anne Lilly

‘Twas when the winds howled and churned in the peak of the night.

When a young bard forced his way into the blizzard with all his might.

He trudged through the thickness of snow, as he felt his fatigue grow.

From pitch black, his hair turned white, as his body fought back the frostbite.

But oh, no man could halt the mind of a bard. Where the tale is, so will be their heart.

With his flute, lyre, and food in his sack, he took no notice of the weight in his back.

After hours of sheer cold, he found the village his songs foretold. With a smile and a sigh, he dashed to the lights.

He took refuge in a nearby tavern, where the villagers joyed in unison.

The bard observed the smiles that plastered on their faces. He knew the hero had protected this peace throughout the ages.

Moments later, the young bard stepped out of his seat and began to take the stage, and he sang about the hero of the village.

The melody of his tunes captivated their ears. Some might say they even shed a tear.

The bard had won the hearts of the town.

So, in return, they had offered him to see, the hero he always wished to meet.

The songs he wrote were created from stories passed down, yet the truth was what he never found.

One from the crowd spoke and warned him of what he could see, but he was blinded by glee.

They brought him to the path of his hero’s home where the snow glistened and the lanterns shone.

But my, how peculiar it was. The people were hesitating and making a fuss.

Once they opened the door, the bard was appalled at what he had seen.

He turned to them and pointed to the seemingly untouched furnishings.

"What has occurred that led to this unsightly scene?"

The crowd went silent with sadness in their eyes.

"The hero is near to meet the heavens and his mind had forgotten his life. He had neither children nor wife."

The young bard stood in shock and furrowed his brows.

"I do still wish to see what he has become before he breathes his last and returns above."

Startled by him, the people wondered yet paid no mind and guided him further.

They entered the bedroom and there laid still, a body that once protected the town, terribly ill.

The bard walked near and sat on the bed, as the light slowly faded from the hero's head.

Nowhere found was his hero's memory.

Tales and songs of old, he wished to tell his story. The lad closed his eyes and took out his lyre:

"Oh, thy great warrior, I wish for you to heed my plead. False are not the stories I admire, for you to hear my song is my greatest desire."

The warrior opened his eyes at last, as the bard played a tune, remnants of the hero's past.

The song was foreign to the man's mind, yet he felt his heart transcending through time.

The days of his youth flashed before his eyes and his memories began to arise.

Soon, he yearned for the scent of the spring breeze, the cold touch of the lake, and the lullaby that put his mind at ease.

The song brought him back to the life he once had that he could have never returned to without the lad.

And as he played his final note, the bard’s young eyes met with the old.

"Thou, young sir, have restored the fondest time of mine. Oh, how I wished to return to a moment so divine." Faintly, said he.

The crowd gasped behind the door, as the bard's lyre nearly fell to the floor.

Tears filled his eyes as he smiled fondly at the hero he admired.

"Hero is what thou are, precious youth." The man said, shakily caressing the boy's head.

"And thou shall be remembered for thy deed. Thou have saved I in my time of need."

A smile lit up on the hero's frail face, as he closed his eyes and brought the lad into an embrace.

"Save those lost in the wind, sorrowful, and in grief. My child, thou art a true hero indeed." And in his faintest whisper, his soul was finally freed.

Hours later, the moon bid goodbye as the sun rose and the bittersweet feeling lurked in the shadows.

The cold winter morning gathered the town for the hero's mourning.

They had cremated his body, to devote his freedom and bravery.

His ashes were spread from the mountain’s peak to the fields beyond, for the wind would know where his soul belonged.

The young bard stayed no longer, as he bid farewell to the others.

His quest now was not only to sing and share a story but to also save those in agony.

He traveled from far and wide, and he was known as the late hero's greatest pride.

The bard's tale did not end here for he still had more to share.

He had gone through under and high, plenty of greetings, and plenty of goodbyes;

But neither his nor the late hero's legacy would go by;

for the one telling you this tale, is none other than I.

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