My guitar playing has dropped off significantly in the past year or two, downgraded from “enough to not forget any songs” to “enough to barely keep finger calluses”. Occasionally when Nora is upset about something or generally demanding to be entertained, I’ll pull out the ol’ six-string and strum a bit for her. To her, I think the guitar is a big sound-making box that amuses her for no more than ten minutes. Last night, I played a bit for her and let her touch the strings. I think she enjoyed how the strummed strings felt on her hand.
The first few chords I play are from Angel from Montgomery. The rest are improvised randomly…which means they often don’t flow very well musically.
She’s good at muting strings. Now we just have to do some strumming and fretboard work.
The other day, I was admiring how shiny and reflective the surface of my classical guitar is and, like a good amateur photographer, started thinking of subjects I could reflect it in. Naturally, my first idea was a narcissistic one, but I couldn’t figure out how to position the camera and lighting to make that [...]
In sort of a combination of my tea cup and guitar posts this week, I have continued to alter reality a bit with Photoshop magic. This was my first idea. I don’t like it that much. This would make a great album cover, were I a classical guitar virtuoso. Note how the string shadows hit [...]
This is a simple little ditty that I’ve come up with recently. It sounds very “Pink Floyd” to me. Hopefully it will be incorporated into a longer song sometime. It’s funny that I don’t have a good way to share only audio on my blog, so here’s a quick video I made. Doesn’t the letterboxing [...]
George Catlin painted ominous, swirling clouds of black smoke that loom out of the distance and drive the Indians before them. The artist was an eyewitness to such terrifying events, and described the fire’s “thunder rumbling as it goes.” But he also wrote that prairie fires made for “some of the most beautiful scenes that are to be witnessed in this country, and also some of the most sublime.”
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My guitar playing has dropped off significantly in the past year or two, downgraded from “enough to not forget any songs” to “enough to barely keep finger calluses”. Occasionally when Nora is upset about something or generally demanding to be entertained, I’ll pull out the ol’ six-string and strum a bit for her. To her, I think the guitar is a big sound-making box that amuses her for no more than ten minutes. Last night, I played a bit for her and let her touch the strings. I think she enjoyed how the strummed strings felt on her hand.
