Well, I began playing when I was eight years old in an attempt to feel closer to my father. See, he passed away when I was young but was this amazing musician. I can still remember him sitting and playing his guitar on our green plad couch in our basement doing his best to remain patient with me as he taught me my first few chords. After he passed my brother and I would pick up his guitars and play. It made us feel like he was still around, still in the room, growing impatient as our fingers stumbled on the fretboard. This is where my music comes from. Memories that remain in my heart and on my mind. Thoughts that are impossible (atleast for me) to express without an acoustic guitar sitting in my lap. Music is my outlet. My means of survival. My wants, my needs, my purpose.

Fri, Mar 4, 2011

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