Sunday Afternoon

Sunday afternoon, I sat on the steps of my front porch playing guitar to the natural rhythms of the outdoors. A glass of white wine was to the right of me, my dog sat to the left and in my lap sat a Spanish guitar. In the middle I sat, with a smile, for this is one of those moments that you know will be committed to memory as one of those grand moments (kind of pre-transcendental of me, wouldn’t you say?) (Or) (Maybe it was post-transcendental of me because I am reflecting from a memory? Either way it was quite a noticeable moment). Wind, birds, cars and neighbors were all the back beat to my music. Music for your environment is one thing but to play music with your environment is a hypnotic experience, very satisfying to say the least. I cannot remember if I ever sat outside and practiced my guitar before. My memories of music outside are more professional recollections of playing festivals or park concerts but not just the simplicity of practicing music for the enjoyment of practicing music. Remembering old songs and re-working them in an alterative tuning that I have been experimenting with gave me limitless options on the fret board. One problem kept crossing my mind.

If you don’t know the fret board then you don’t know the music. The music becomes only fingers on strings, strings on wood that become reverberation of sound without the understanding of theory.

With this new tuning (DADGAD) the fret board has become a mystery to me. I know the root notes of what I am playing but have no understanding of what and why of the chords that I strum. “This is music”, I think to myself, without the understanding of theory. A total comprehension of the fret board is important to me, and I will learn it thoroughly, but for now I play.