I remember the day well. I went with my mom and a brother from my church. I couldn't play a note on the guitar so it made sense to me to take someone who could. He negotiated a little and I went home with my guitar. A beautiful red guitar that made the sweetest sound I'd ever heard. I named it Alejandro. Because I could. I mean, why wouldn't you right?
So there I was at home, and I suddenly realised, wait, I don't know how to play this thing. Hmmm, that's a slight problem (You’d think I would have thought this through). I think somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I was holding on to the dream that I would magically know what to do with it when I took it home. I soon came crashing back to reality. So I went back to YouTube and when that was taking too long, I found some apps to help me and I was away! I wanted to learn quickly, and who had money to pay a guitar teacher? I’d just spent it all on Alejandro and his case!
It was like learning a foreign language so it was right up my street. The more I learned, the more I wanted to know. I started writing more songs and I was having a whale of a time on my own. I probably made my mom and my siblings want to move out for all the noise I made! I made them listen to every new creation and listen they did. Sorry mom, sorry sibs; but thank you for graciously putting up with my noise as I unconsciously chased my burgeoning, God-given passion.