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Hard couple weeks
Two weeks ago Tuesday morning, my Mother passed unexpectedly. She went in the hospital for chest pains, they ran tests, found nothing, and minutes before discharge, her heart stopped. I got on a plane Wednesday. I had to move money from account to account to even get the plane ticket, but I made happen. I had 15 dollars cash and just enough money on one card to check one bag. Trying to bring a guitar was not going to happen.
I thought the last thing I would have time or inclination to do anyway was play music anyway. I was wrong. I didn’t realize how much I used the guitar to center myself and process things. As I walked into my parents living room, I noticed a guitar I didn’t know either of my parents owned. I noticed two things right away:
It was a beautiful art and lutherie dreadnought. Cedar, it turns out. It was left handed, so it had to be my Dad’s. I asked him about it. He had bought it years before but had barely attempted to play. He told me that it had become an affectionate joke between my mother and him. She would walk by the stand and strum it occasionally and say “there! It’s been played for the week!” He told me to take it and flip the strings so I can play it right handed. In the meantime, I decided to try to do my practice, or some approximation thereof, anyway on the guitar as is. Another problem: there were five strings: the G string was missing.
I thought about my alternate tuning experiments. How could I turn an upside down 5 string guitar into music for a right handed six-string guitarist? Well, I can drop the low E to D, then I have a 3 string five-chord on one finger and two strings, B, and e, available for accents. That makes a fingerstyle twelve bar blues in E interesting. If I hit a high string as an accent with my thumb fretting the way I normally might with a bass string on the one beat, then strum with my fingers on the power chord, it adds some texture. On the four and five chords, I don’t even need to fret, since I have an open b and e.
I ended up staying over a week. There was sadness, but also joy and beautiful memories. Music kept me sane, kept me honest, and kept me going. I went to music villa in Billings and bought some strings and a couple slotted bone nuts so I could make the guitar right handed. Now I could actually do a full practice session. It helped. On Thursday of last week, we loaded up a car and headed for my brother’s home in the mountains of Colorado. After a night there, we headed back to Austin TX. I don’t know if my practice this week was effective as practice, but it was indispensable as self-care.
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