You’ve heard of Beethoven, right? But, what made him so special? Not only did he write complicated piano pieces, compose string quartets, create symphonies for orchestras, and much more, he was deaf when he composed some of his greatest pieces! Despite the extreme difficulty, he composed some of the best pieces ever known to human kind and managed to impress another piano prodigy, Mozart! He was one of the greatest composers to ever live! Here’s a day in the fascinating life of Beethoven…
I wake to the feeling of warm sunlight drifting through the window. Hastily, I open an eye to see the same things I always see: pots and pans cluttering the floor, half-finished piano sonatas thrown on top of the piano, and clothes everywhere. I drowsily rub the sleep out of my eyes and throw off the quilted blanket thinking about my unfinished “5th Symphony” and what to write next.
My bare feet touch the cold, stone floor, sending a chill up my spine. Most of the clothes in my wardrobe are sprawled across the floor randomly after my temper tantrum yesterday as the D sharp key on my piano broke. Instead of cleaning up the wrinkled clothes, I search through them before dressing in a random assortment—a gray shirt, brown pants, faded red socks, and a yellow, woolen coat. My apartment has been cold during the three weeks I’ve lived here. It seems like I just moved in but the owner is kicking me out as I never clean up after myself. I find it a waste of time to clean; it doesn’t change anything and doesn’t matter.
The sight of a housefly knocks me out of my deep thought. I don’t swat at it as I don’t see the point in doing so. I think to have my favorite treat today for breakfast, leftover mac & cheese. I don’t get this often for it is very expensive, but I managed to bribe a store owner to take it for a fraction of the price as he had extras. I pick up the little leftover bowl of the gooey substance and take a bite. Cold and hard are the first things that come to mind when I put the spoonful in my mouth. As much as I wish I could afford to get a fresh bowl, this is the only thing I have for breakfast so I force another cold bite down my throat and another and another until I’m done.
Lost in a train of thought, I drop the bowl. I don’t hear anything as the bowl shatters to pieces, but when I look down I see the broken bowl and go get the broom. I swipe the pieces to a corner with the old, dusty broom. I then throw the broom to the wall in frustration. It sends a cloud of dust in the air that sends me into a coughing fit. Not noticing a leftover shard of the bowl, I step on it and feel a stinging pain in my heel. Sighing, I pluck out the piece of the bowl and put a scrap of cloth on the injury. Perhaps today I’ll work on a piece that doesn’t require use of the pedal.
I attempt, hopping on my right foot, to get to my piano and fall to the cold, hard stone floor of my apartment. I lie there feeling my fury rising inside of me and scream at the top of my lungs as I throw off my jacket. I suddenly find myself enduring the shooting pain in my left foot as I run around my apartment in a rage breaking everything in my way. I come to see a flowerpot with a beautiful tulip in it and throw it to the ground watching it explode with soil and glass. I can’t help smiling as I see the helpless, limp plant laying on the stone floor. I sit in the only remaining intact chair to catch my breath and calm down. Only now do I feel remorse for what I have done.
alf the things I own now lay on the floor, broken. I push away all of the thoughts in my head as I carry the heavy, wooden chair to the corner of the apartment and try not to focus on the excruciating pain in my left foot. I then crawl desperately to my legless piano and sit on the floor, my legs crossed. Most people think I’m crazy to cut the legs off of my piano, but I have a reason to do so. I cannot hear the music I compose but when the piano touches the floor and I sit on the floor, I can feel the vibrations of the piano’s music and know if my songs sound decent. The next few hours pass by like a blur as I work on my “Moonlight Sonata” and my “5th Symphony.”
I manage to write six pages of music before I realize the sun is setting. I crawl to the window and sigh. Another day of quiet and nothing else, I think as I undress, crawl into bed, and close my eyes.
When she’s not writing articles for MY-Say, you can find sixth grader Alisa Slonaker, Central Middle School, Anne Arundel County, playing the piano.