The guitar is one of my life’s major frustrations……
I had my first guitar when I was eleven, and, like Bryan Adams, ‘I played it ’til my fingers bled’, (albeit a couple of years after him). Sadly unlike Bryan Adams, no matter how many hours I put in, my playing stayed resolutely shite. Thank God that by the time I was seventeen, I was the proud owner of both a microphone and big-hair, and was stick thin and staggeringly attractive with the voice of an Alt-Rock Angel, or my early years would not have been half as much fun, (or even remotely as promiscuous, though this really is’nt the place for those stories).
But the guitar has remained a stumbling block…
I’ve probably owned nearly forty of the things… Even now, the Shpics parlour is bedecked with a Takamine 6 string acoustic, a Takamine 12 string, an Ibanez rare wood nylon string cutaway, a Les Paul, a vintage Aria Pro semi-acoustic and a hand made Spanish Flamenco guitar….BUT I still play like a man with webbed fingers ! Half man, half mallard ! AAAaaaGH!
I still love picking up a guitar and limping through a few chords but, after forty something years, it’s still advisable to plug my ears with cotton wool before I start.
But…… I’m not bitter….
In Whitby, as evening fell on our second day, we found ourselves following a flame haired chap with a guitar case all of the way through the town, along the East side harbour wall, and right out onto the pier where, for some twenty minutes he sat playing to the disappearing sun. Totally lost in it.
Beautiful, Beautiful, Beautiful……
Please give the pic a click and see it full size….It’s my favourite photo since my return to film.
All Images Copyright Stuart Allan Hyde