Made For Music
I remember holding my first guitar. It was a Blueridge guitar with yellowed wood and ornate decorations on the head and fret board. It was a hardcase guitar; therefore, it was very heavy. But, oh, the sounds; thick, rich, deep tones that caused goose bumps to rise up on my flesh. My eyes rolled closed as the gentle tones washed over me. I fell in love with that guitar. It has helped feed my passion.
There are a lot of things I can do well. I can cook, babysit, sing, and get along with people. I’m a diverse person—I like to do all kinds of things. However, there is only activity that I can do beautifully. Playing the guitar is my passion because it is an extension of my soul; it is my whole life.
Playing the guitar excites me because I know I am good at it. It gives me real pride. I can play whatever I want, if I have the music, and I can play in any key. Though I write most of my own melodies, I love to learn new music simply because I know I can.
The guitar stimulates my brain. I’ve been teaching myself for one year and two months. Learning guitar chords came quite easily to me at first, but the more complicated ones that involved four fingers were a real challenge. I have had to practice over and over to accomplish smooth transitions from chord to chord. I also play fingerstyle. That is also difficult to do, using each finger to pick a different string. I had to develop extremely good coordination in order to fingerpick. I still have trouble making my fingers go where I want them to.
I get great peace from my music. I am a very busy person. I constantly have things going on. Sometimes I just need a time out. I grab my guitar and sit on the floor of my bedroom with the lights off, and play my heart out. I play my own music when I feel this way; if I feel sad, my guitar cries out a mournful tune. If I’m happy, it sings like a bird. If I just am, then it just is, too. It’s hard to find music written by other people that suits every single mood I may have. It’s easier to write my own. Angry music is dark, harsh, deep notes that remind me of thunder. If I mix lighter notes in every once in awhile, I get the impression of lightning. Happy music is light and airy; gentle notes that are springy and high. Sometimes they paint a picture of a blue sky with no clouds; sometimes of laughing children.
Playing the guitar helps to keep me from dying of boredom. I don’t have many friends. I basically hang out with myself or with my five brothers. I get bored quite easily. However, no matter how long you’ve been playing, there is always something new to learn with the guitar. It may be a new song, a new chord, maybe even just a new note, but there is always something. Therefore, on days when everyone else is busy and I am alone, I occupy myself with my guitar. I have learned to play songs just by hearing them on the radio. I can even play along to My Savior, My God while it’s playing on the radio.
A guitar is a tool. I can impact people through my music. When I hold the guitar, I hold great power. I am able to get my ideas and beliefs across to people. I can make people cry, or make them laugh. I can make people think. I have written songs about religion, politics, and people. I have made people cry when I sing to them about children who are refused and unloved. I make them laugh with absurd songs that have no meaning at all, or when I sing about what it’s like to live with five brothers. I can make them think about their life and how they live. I can influence them for good or for bad. Everyone one listens to music at some point in their lives. My music is just getting out there, and I want to make a difference. It’s a great responsibility. I have to be very conscious of how I write things.
The guitar is how I express myself. I can say things through music when I lack the right words to speak. Give me a simple question and I’ll answer you with a simple melody. The guitar provided me a way to dance with my heart when I was forbidden to dance with my body. It is a part of me. My heart races when I pick the guitar up. My eyes roll close as my fingers slide over the strings. It’s like it almost understands me, and it bends beneath my will and my fingertips, never resisting. My music comes straight from my soul and projects itself through my guitar. One of my favorite things to say is: “Guitars are beautiful until you play them—and then they become majestic!”
Very recently, I was in an audition held by the national talent scout, Kim Myers. I was scared to death because I had to convince her I was good in less than a minute. I have performed several times for groups of strangers. Lots of people have told me that I am good, but she was a professional who had been in the business for years. Her opinion mattered a great deal. When I was through, her exact words were: “I really liked you. And I’m loving that guitar!” Her words have cemented my passion even more firmly in my heart. The guitar is an important part of my life. I could not live without my music and my guitar. I can only sum it up with one of my own songs:
How I Breathe
Writing a song is how I breathe,
It’s like a fresh wind from a salty sea.
It’s like opening up a door of rainbow colors
That never existed before.
Writing a song is how I breathe.
