Another wet, snowy cold day in Paradise. I suppose a real Inuk would be out there putting the ribs in his qajaq so he could feed the extended family, but 'kadlunavunga!' So I'm not working on my boat, I'm inside playing my flamenco guitar.
It's an 'Alhambra' like the one in the picture. Not a custom made guitar like the heros play, but a good one nonetheless, with a sweet cypress smell. The day I bought it, I played about 20 flamenco guitars in the store, everything from total junk to the gloriously sublime, guitars which floated under your arm, sending sensuous pulses directly into your heart as you played them. Almost better than... well, a similar thrill at least, one shared between you and a loved one. If you play a finely crafted, sensitive instrument, you'd know the experience.
I begin playing some exercises from 'Pumping Nylon' by Ken Tennant to loosen up my fingers. Then it's on to trying to learn some pieces by Moraito, who is my favourite guitarrista. I like his style of playing. He comes from Jerez, and is more traditional than guys like Paco de Lucia and his followers and very rhythmic.
Like paddling, it allows one to drift away from one's tangled life and float among the gods for a while. Coming back to Reality Beach is always a smooth landing with little dumping surf to roll you around.
3 comments:
Wow, that's a nice paddle, is this what they call euro paddle ?
Yup, that's a Spanish Special. Designed especially for the Straits of Gibraltor rip tides during the 1790's when the English were playing havoc with the French fleets in the area. Note the cannon ball hole in the center...
Cool, I need to do the opposite, get some sound out of my greenland paddle, maybe drilling a long hole through the length and turn it into a flute :o)
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