Monday, April 11, 2011


The guitar presented itself to me when I was 15
    with a challenge
It had no investment in me one way or the other
    I was free to take it up
        or not
But the guitar didn’t make its invitation lightly
    And it asked only that I take it seriously

Now, this is a rewarding partnership
    I’m no prodigy
    The guitar never promised I would be

Years on
    I’ve worn it in
    And it has changed me as well
    I clip the nails on my right hand in a very specific way
         whether I pick up the guitar to play that week
            or not
    To clip them indiscriminately feels like dishonoring a covenant

I think in chords
    and chord shapes
        and alternative chord voicings
             blues licks
                     key transpositions
                         vocal accompaniments
                            and bass lines

    I feel in sixths
         major 7th’s
                and resolving relative minors

The calloused tips of my left hand are badges of honor
I think this is what a vocation is supposed to be.

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