In real life or work and study, everyone has come into contact with composition. Composition is a narrative method that expresses the meaning of a theme through words through human thought consideration and language organization. Do you always have trouble starting a sentence when writing an essay? The following is a composition about me and music that I have compiled. It is for reference only. I hope it can help everyone. Composition of Me and Music 1
"It's all the moon's fault..." Another singing voice sounded like ghosts crying and wolves howling from the next door. This is already the fourth "solo concert" this week. I yelled unbearably, pulled the cotton ball out of my ears, and threw the pen in my hand: "Go to hell with this speech contest! In such a 'superior' environment, it is already a miracle that I don't have schizophrenia. How can I write a speech?" Although he said this, his mind still drifted to tomorrow's competition site involuntarily, and the scene of a disastrous defeat flashed before his eyes. Alas, I... "I stood on a high hill and looked from a distance..." A scream as sharp as stepping on a cat's tail, with a frequency enough to collapse the Great Wall of China, brought me back to my thoughts. Damn it! I cursed the neighbor next door for the thirteenth and fourteenth time, and thought angrily: To people like this who only care about themselves, we should retaliate with retaliation! "Tit for retaliation" I repeated these four words, my inspiration was like that in the dark night A flash of lightning... I rummaged through the box to find the most exciting rock and roll, ran to the stereo, turned the volume to the limit, opened several doors, and finally pressed the "Play" button proudly . Roaring singing and harsh accompaniment jumped out immediately. Haha! I smiled evilly and thought: Rock "Vs" pop music, I will definitely win!
Unfortunately, this evil smile did not last long. The neighbor next door actually bullied the young with more people, and the whole family went out to come. The sound of the family chorus could literally trigger an avalanche. So, while I was glad that I didn't live on the Qinghai-Tibet Plateau, I weakly pressed the "st knock" button. Alas, the devil is as high as the road!
The singing is still going on. To me, they seem to be louder and brighter. Every note is a mockery of me...
"Dang Dang Dang", a faint knock on the door. I got up. I looked out and saw the little sister downstairs knocking on the neighbor's door. I suddenly became energetic: She must be here for this "noise" too! But what clever trick can a child have? I couldn't help but take another two steps forward, preparing to watch a good show. Unexpectedly, she didn't make any noise and only whispered a few words to the neighbor. When I listened carefully, it was just "homework." I haven't finished writing...please lower your voice..." and the like. I saw the sincerity on her face, and I was secretly worried for her: Aren't you playing the piano with a cow and seeking the skin of a tiger? Let them accommodate you, you are too "dirty" "Tan!" I turned around and couldn't bear to witness the "Battle of Waterloo" again.
A minute passed and the singing suddenly disappeared. I touched my ears suspiciously.
Am I not deaf? Two minutes, three minutes... There was still silence around me. I walked to the desk in confusion, sat down, and mechanically laid out the paper, but I couldn't write anything. Like a bridge, I suddenly smiled knowingly, lowered my head and wrote: "In fact, only a bridge is needed between people..." Composition 2 of Me and Music
I have always felt that I The relationship with music is not that simple. At least it cannot be said with the words "I have studied music" or "I am studying music". From music teaching in kindergarten, to an aunt who is a music teacher, and then. A distant sister who studies music, and finally a black piano. I have always been surrounded by loneliness and resentment, but I finally accepted it.
There is a little memory. There are many pictures in the room. One of them is in the kindergarten. It should be in the art kindergarten, because there is an electronic keyboard, a small classroom, many pianos, one for two or three people, and the white keys are for singing. Name: "1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7..." There was also a very kind female teacher who always smiled and talked. I don't have a very specific impression, but I am sure that I was like that at that time. I was very scared, so I stretched out my very small hand carefully, then retracted it as if I was electrocuted when I touched it. I laughed and then touched it carefully again.
How innocent the scene must have been at that time. The teacher must also like me quite a lot. He always teaches patiently and smiles tirelessly.
She really started to learn the piano by chance when she was playing with a friend. Out of curiosity, we learned together. I even gave up a good trip opportunity because of it (it has been many years, but I still seem to care about that trip...). Because I didn't feel that I had made much progress, and because the girl's mother recommended it, I changed my teacher to another teacher named Yi. That was when I was in fourth grade. She learned it very quickly at that time, and it was said that the effect was pretty good, so I continued to study with her for the past few months. Because I went to study abroad after graduating from junior high school, I had no choice but to change teachers. I studied with her for six years. She values ??me very much, always takes great pains to teach, and will praise me in front of other students. When I hear others say this, I feel happy...ha...so I work harder. I learned music theory at the same time. I found it interesting, liked it very much, and got good grades. Simply learning the piano is no longer enough for me. Self-study is the first way to find fun. Whether it sounds good or not, I have to give it a try regardless of whether I have learned it or not. Later, I started to score some popular music without scores, that is, I listened to a song, then wrote down the melody, and composed it into piano music myself, adding some accompaniment, intervals, chords, etc., for my own entertainment. It felt like it wasn't fresh enough anymore, so I started on a new path. This time it’s about writing music. In fact, no works have been released. The so-called songs are just for myself to listen to, and they are mainly sad lyrical music. From writing to recording. It’s always just personal music, and I think I “can’t do it” and “don’t want to be laughed at” and so on. Actually, to be honest, I feel good about myself.
But that’s it. I still hope that one day I can hear my music on the radio or on the radio. What would that feel like? In the seven years that I have been in contact with the piano, I have experienced joy, tears, and pride. I'm tired, but happiness is still my biggest gain. The moment I meet success, I will remember the past and the past.