There is something about Beethoven’s music, whether it’s his infamous Ninth Symphony or a lesser known violin Romance, that sets my heart to soaring, my fingers to itching, my soul to longing and my imagination to wandering.
One of his perfectly placed pianissimo fermatas can bring tears to my eyes, one of his exquisitely crafted orchestral crescendos overlapping a pianist’s mezzo-forte trill can fill my heart near to bursting and one of his brilliantly set caesuras will have me holding my breath.
It is written in stone before a German Opera House that Beethoven gave us God’s Fire. Although I am a spiritual person instead of a Godly one, I believe Beethoven did give us Fire. He put the very essence of what lurked inside him into every piece he composed; anger, frustration, sadness, joy.
Beethoven himself said:
“I have never thought of writing for reputation and honour. What I have in my heart must come out; that is the reason why I compose.”
Ludwig Van Beethoven lived to compose and wrote every piece with quill and ink so the emotions in his soul would be freed.
There are many reasons I write, many reasons I started writing long ago — one of the main ones being why Beethoven composed. What I have in my heart, my soul, waiting to be plucked from my imagination needs to be set down.
Whether I use quill and ink, fountain pen, ballpoint pen or the keys tap-tap-tapping away beneath my fingertips, I will write what I must for I know no other way.
