"Me And My Guitar..."
"...always in the same room"
(James Taylor)A little over ten years ago, I lost my interest in photography. Or so I thought.
Only a couple of years before that, I had begun writing songs, but with the demise of my thirteen-year marriage, songwriting took up a major chunk of my creative psyche. I wrote songs on the way to work, at work, on the way home from work, in the car, in my head... anywhere I had a free moment to think, it seemed, songs invaded my headspace.
I purchased my Martin guitar a few months before I moved out of my house. It was a present to myself as way of making up for all the years I'd pretty much denied myself many personal possessions. I'd owned a 12-string guitar which my wife had picked up from a friend of hers for $70 as an anniversary gift. It served me pretty well for a number of years, despite its rather high action. But to improve as a guitar player, I needed a better guitar. I'd always wanted a Martin, so over to Elderly Instruments I went. My choice came down to either a 30-year old D-21 or a brand new D-1R. I chose the latter.
Hour after hour I would play some days, either learning someone else's songs or writing and rehearsing my own. I met many local (and a few not-so-local) musicians during my first year after moving out of the house, so I was often invited to jams and song circles. Never wanting to be without something new to play on these occasions, I tried to write as often as possible. Mostly, I wrote about myself... taking some aspect of my life and turning it into song. Divorce is pretty fertile ground for songwriting, as you might imagine, so I did lots of plowing of that field. It's only natural to do lots of processing after such a life-altering event, so I did most of my processing in songs.
A couple of wonderful yet short-lived relationships provided more song material and for several years, I attended a songwriting retreat; I began writing songs that didn't necessarily involve me thematically, although I'm always in there someplace, I suppose.
For the last year or so, I haven't done a lot of writing, other than for my blog, which until recently, has even been forsaken for my resurgent interest in photography thanks to flickr. Every now and then, however, a song comes to me — whether to celebrate a
friend's birthday, or in response to emotions I might read in a photograph. I write almost as if it's my duty, sometimes, whether that means giving voice to something I — or someone else — might be feeling.
I've re-recorded
my most recent song (complete with train whistle).
