Saturday, May 5, 2007

Back to the Classics

Well, it's been over a month since I changed my layout. Uhm, a lot of people says the header's cute, *wohooo* ang some says the layout's good *another wohohooo* But I'm quite disturbed with it's compatibility to other browsers, especially the scrollbars. Sooo, as I've posted last May 1, I changed the layout and made it a clean and simple one. This time, there won't be any hassle in updating the links by digging the codes coz blogger can do that for me, and also, ehenever I feel like changing something, I'll just make another header.

About the header again: The image is from DA, I dunno who the anime character was, but it fits my scheme. Classic. Because for me, classic=music=piano. I love the piano.

Sitting on the piano bench, it is only you. The quiet room around you only reminds you of just how alone you are. It holds a vague resemblance to where you started off, just as it is the origin of the music – quiet solitude of the quiet keys, silent in their eagerness to be played, in their wanting to be put to use.

And then your fingers approach the keys, playing an unfamiliar tune, quiet and cautious at first. You’re on new ground, a place you haven’t quite mastered. You’re nervous at first, scared of a slip, hitting a flat instead of a sharp, losing the tempo. You’re unsure of yourself, knowing that years of training and study never prepared you for this melody.

But then the left hand comes in; giving the backing the right needs to go on. And just in time for the music being played to build, grow, before falling back again. Back from an emotional tirade and into a slow but happy tune. A feeling of love, a melody that could easily be taken as a song of finding acceptance. But not long after, you move to a familiar melody, one that you know very well. One you feel safe with, a song you can trust to get through. A song with some tough spots, some tempo changes, some crescendos and some decrescendos. But then it turns into a song of sorrow. One of pain and loss, a song that has been embedded in your heart for years. You can barely play out the notes and they come out choked, and so you decide that this particular tune is best played almost inaudibly soft, so that you and only you can hear it. No one else need be burdened by the sadness of this sorrowful song. But then, after a long time of lingering, you decide to move on.

The notes the keys sing out now are louder, a more aggressive sound riding on the gentle demeanour of the instrument. It gets louder and softer, audible emotions pouring from the keys. Pain. Love. Anger. You’re caught up in it, feeling it, but suddenly your thoughts wander for just a moment and you miss a key. You try to fix it. Before you know it, you’re thrown off. You try and try to pick it back up again, but to no avail.

It’s then the music stops.

After a few moments you go to try again, but you realize you’ve forgotten the procession of what you’d been playing. You wish you could remember; people had told you, insisted to you how wonderful it was. But you’re left in the silence once again. You’ve never liked the silence, the solitude, so you give it a try. And after trial and error, you begin to remember again.

And so you return to the melody, coming on stronger than before. There are some slips, some misses, some stops and some sour notes. You even alter the tune a little, making changes to, in the long run, make it even better than before.

Some have told you that your song isn’t good enough, that it’s pathetic. Some have told you to stop, and some have tried to stop it themselves. But as you sit in the silence of a room filled with your music, you feel as though no one can stop you. You don’t know how long you’ll be playing, and somehow, you hope you never will.

The pianist, you play your song of life, your pain crying out and your happiness making the keys sing.


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Byron Jeff; X_X
Isko freshie, taking up landscape architecture in UPD. Prastrated pianist, artist. Math flunker. XD

A: ardeeboi axel B: bea batopik C: carl D: daniel jr E: emina F: ferbert R: roselle T: tim ang W: wanderer