Sunday, November 6, 2011

Why I Compose

 There is something about composing music that I can't explain. Sometimes, I will be banging my head on the piano, complaining that I can't compose anything, and then a melody pops in my head, and I just know what to do. I just put my hands on the right key and create. There are other times where my mom and I will be about to leave the house, when a melody comes to me, and I run to the keyboard in my room, while my mom is wondering where I went. And then, sometimes, it just starts from a chord, an arpeggio, or even a scale. Either way, there is something magical to composing a song. I've come to realize that the reason I can't explain what happens when I compose is because what I compose are bits of life. Not even my life. I can compose pain, love, hope, joy, even emotions I've never felt before. Each song represents some worldly kind of feeling. Every time I'm in the process of writing a song, I always feel like it's mine. It's almost like a baby that I am caring for. But when it is complete, I have to let the song go. It never feels like mine anymore. It feels free.

1 comment:

  1. Wow! You have such a gift! To be moved by the language of music in that manner must be incredible! I would love to hear something you've composed. Perhaps you'll share? And where is this picture from? (Suggestion: The end of your post seems to be foreshadowing another post...? "Letting the song go" so that it is not yours, but free? Sounds like you have more you could share.) Again, thanks for giving us a glimpse into your gift!