Student Guitar

Last year I bought a guitar for my birthday. I decided I was going to be consistent about practicing guitar... no matter how shitty I sounded playing. The guitar solid, it’s pretty, it’s bright and it for the most part has been stored away.

I was however still committed to practicing, which I did with my daughter’s student guitar. There is rarely a day that I haven’t picked up the guitar since last November.

I have two modes of practice.

One is kinda formal, learning chords of other’s songs. If you don’t know me, playing anything anyone else has written is like being under someone else’s authority. I bristle. So that within itself was a practice, learn the language from those that already know how to speak it. I also have a book of chords that I will practice playing and practice sequence of chords almost like drills for my fingers.

The other mode of practice is more like a meditation. I strum, play, pick, write songs without knowing the tablature or chords. I go with what feels good. The other part of this mode of practice is relaxing my body while playing. Can I play without holding my breath or tensing up when I hit a wrong note or can I turn that wrong note into a textural contrast or maybe a new addition to my song or phrase?

Both modes of practice fit into the overall goal which was simply to have “amiga time” with my student guitar... that looks Spanish, but made in Japan. I listen to her through the simple chords of other musicians, I also practice my voice through her. Like a baby. Ga-ga-ga, ba-ba-ba.

By no stretch am I an accomplished guitarist, but I’ve made it a practice to make it easier to pick up the guitar, bringing it with us when we travel, to playing Winter Lady or I Shall Be Released to my daughter before bedtime. My wife hung the guitar up on the wall, so I didn't have to dig it out of a case. I tried to make picking up the guitar the easiest part, so I could face the hardest part.

The hardest part for me was dropping the idea that I would be good at it right off the bat.

I owned a guitar in my twenties. I wasn’t good at it, it was too embarrassing to practice because people might hear how terribly beginner I was and I certainly didn’t want to seem needy by taking lessons. That guitar lasted about as long as my commitment to practicing; not very long. I only wanted the end product, I didn’t want to be a student, I certainly didn't want to listen. I was too busy trying to do everything my way.

Now, I flub all the time in front of everyone. I bring the guitar to the playground when I am watching my daughter monkey around. Toddlers toddle over for me to sing and play for them. I have to tell the parent I have no idea what I’m doing, but the kid is welcome to watch me. One time a kid even clapped for me as I hit sour note after sour note.

The best part of learning the language of the guitar is the effortlessness of time. If I was consistent. I got better. If I relaxed my body, I got better. If I played other people’s music, I got better. If I struggled over and over again to play the F chord, I got better. (I’m coming after you bar chords). I didn’t have to put in hard work all the time, for the most part I just had to put in the time. I had to make it easy to put in the time.

I’ve been pulling out my new guitar more lately. I can finally play a few songs on a big boy guitar, but there is something warm and mellow about the student guitar. She is sweet and forgiving to me while I learn her language. She reminds me to be a humble student, a conduit, not the end product. The mastery is allowing her to speak, the mastery is listening with empty humility. The master gets out of the way and enjoys what comes through.

Above is a master, who after the first song will explain how he learned to play. He learned the language, then he could understand the meaning, myth, and metaphor hidden in the music of previous masters.