There sure are a lot of scratches on my guitar. It’s ok. Every scratch tells a story. It has new strings now. I got a new clip on tuner. I have to tackle this new tuner. It hasn’t been easy as it also works on ukulele’s, which are very popular in Hawaii. I can’t play without the tuner because I don’t know how to tune a guitar. I tried to learn to read notes, but hey, the Beatles couldn’t read notes either. Some of the greatest musicians couldn’t read them. I must admit, my finger picking is beautiful. My fingers glide over the strings and it is so much fun. I’ve been letting it go to waste and that is a shame. I’ve waited too long to fix this guitar. It survived a fire. Now it is crying out to be played. It will all come back to me. I just need to practice more. Whenever I played, it always soothed my soul and gave me peace of mind. Playing will help me to heal myself. My music plays through me, through my heart and soul.
Life at the Gilpin Hotel in the Colorado Rockies is a very fond memory of mine. We had exceptional open music nights every Thursday. I always played on stage. Even though it’s classical, my music was well loved. There is a video of me playing on that stage somewhere in St. Paul. The bartender always made the crowd keep quiet. He said there would be no service to anyone who spoke while I was playing. You could hear a pin drop. He also made that video. And so, I got to know the other musicians very well. They told me to never stop playing my classical music. Even though theirs was foot stomp ‘n’ fiddle and dancing on the table kind of music. A good time was always had by all. And yes, I danced on the tables, too.
Now, several weeks after my roommate has restrung it, the strings are almost staying in tune. Except the A string. I’m convinced a Menuhenee is sitting on it. I once made a cassette of me playing. I just remembered that I gave my sister Sharon a copy. OMG! Maybe she still has it. Stay tuned … (joke).