There will be slow songs, sad songs, happy songs, songs about

Madison Beer, young yet wise in the ways of creation, once said: “There will be slow songs, sad songs, happy songs, songs about boys, and songs about being who you are. I’m making sure I’m happy with all of the songs, because if I am not happy with them, I can’t expect anyone else to be, you know?” What seems at first a simple description of her work is, in truth, a declaration of artistic philosophy, rooted in an ancient truth: that no creation can touch others unless it springs first from authenticity of the heart.

The ancients knew well that all art is born of emotion. The poet sang of grief and stirred the tears of nations; the playwright told of love and roused laughter and joy. Madison speaks of sad songs and happy songs, of light and shadow, of romance and identity—reminding us that the full range of the human spirit must be given voice if the artist is to be true. To sing only of happiness is to deny the valleys of life; to sing only of sorrow is to forget that joy exists. Wholeness comes from weaving both together into one great harmony.

Her words echo the wisdom of Sappho, the ancient Greek poetess, who sang both of passion’s ecstasy and its pain. Some of her fragments rejoice in the beauty of love, while others cry out in loneliness and longing. The duality is essential, for without sorrow there is no sweetness in joy, and without joy, sorrow is unbearable. Madison Beer, though speaking in the language of pop music, is heir to this ancient tradition: to give voice to the human heart in all its shades.

But there is a deeper layer: “I’m making sure I’m happy with all of the songs, because if I am not happy with them, I can’t expect anyone else to be.” Here we see the essence of integrity in creation. The ancients taught that the true artist, whether painter, bard, or sculptor, does not first seek the applause of the crowd, but the quiet conviction of their own spirit. The craftsman who is not satisfied with his work cannot demand reverence from others. So too with the singer: only when her heart is in harmony with her song can it ring true for those who listen.

Consider the example of Ludwig van Beethoven, who, though he grew deaf, continued to write music not for the approval of others, but for the truth of his own soul. He labored in silence, hearing the music only in his mind, and because it satisfied him, it has satisfied generations. Had he sought merely to please the tastes of his time, his songs might have been forgotten. Authenticity is the soil in which lasting art grows. Madison’s statement, though light in tone, reveals this same eternal truth.

There is also courage in her words. To insist on being happy with one’s own work is to resist the endless demands of others—the critics, the audience, the industry. Many through history have been broken because they pursued the applause of the crowd rather than the integrity of the self. Yet those who endure, who carve a place in memory, are those who remained faithful to their own vision. To write songs about being who you are is to remind the world that identity, unmasked and unshaken, is itself a form of art.

The lesson for us all is clear: whatever you create—be it a song, a life, a friendship, or a legacy—do not seek first the approval of others. Seek first the truth of your own heart. Let your work reflect the fullness of your spirit—your sorrow and your joy, your longing and your hope. If you are not at peace with what you have made, how can you expect another soul to find peace in it? But if you are true to yourself, even in imperfection, your authenticity will shine, and others will see themselves reflected in it.

So let this teaching be carried forward: live as the artist lives, with integrity, with courage, with honesty. Write your sad songs and your happy songs, live through your defeats and your triumphs, and above all, make sure your heart is satisfied with the life you are composing. For the audience of the world may come and go, but your soul is always listening. And when it is pleased, you will know you have created something that will endure.