I've Got Blisters On These Fingahs!

My pointer, middle, and ring finger on my left hand hurt from the blisters that I've self-induced by playing the guitar so much these past few days. I don't really mind the pain. Does that make me a masochist? Hm. I probably am.

I still suck like a Dyson vacuum though. Despite all my practicing and the blisters and the hours of time put into it. My hand was just not meant to play a guitar I don't think. I can barely spread my fingers across an octave on the piano -- it's that much harder on a guitar, and I can't really stretch beyond two frets on a good day. Also, my left hand is kind of like the "very special" cousin twice-removed of my right hand and is not nearly as nimble or quick (jumping over a candlestick) as my right hand. Maybe I should try playing a lefty guitar. Or maybe I should get one made for kids. I bet I could reach more than two frets' worth on that.

A friend of mine yelled at me for downgrading myself to an electric due to my small hand-span. He told me that anyone can sound good on an electric (and I can even convince myself with a few songs that I'm moderately good and will soon become a rockstar) but that an acoustic is where it's at. There's nothing like the meaty, raw sound of an acoustic guitar. I explained that I would love to learn how to play it properly, but that my hand is the size of a four year-old's. He suggested I look into a Baby Taylor, which .. I may have to do, once I have money again.

So. My fingers are blistered. They hurt. They burn when they're near hot objects (cooking myself dinner tonight was fun). They ache when I touch them on things, rendering them near useless as they're fingers, used for touching. Still .. I guess it's all a good pain. Something about the greater good, sacrificing for the craft, blah dee blah.

I just have one thing to say: this better improve my chi or my in-touch-ness with the musical universe. I like to imagine John Lennon listening from Heaven, cringing every time he sees me grab my guitar and prop it on my leg. I imagine him going, in his Liverpool-ian accent, "Oh for Christ's sake, not 'er again!" and covering his ears. I also picture him hanging out with Gandhi and JFK.

Is that weird?

- May (your wounds heal).