It Just So Happens…

That I placed my fingers and hand around the neck of a guitar long before they touched the shutter button on a camera. My guitar has always been close at hand and it’s been with me everywhere. Including 300 feet under the Meditterranean Sea during my time as a sonar technician on a nuclear submarine. If my guitar could talk (it does, but not like us) I’d probably have a lot of explaining to do and nobody would believe me.

The camera is a relatively new instrument to my hands and fingers and I’m still learning how to “play” it. Having started my photography journey past the age of 60, it’s much harder to learn because of the Grim Reaper’s curse on my prefrontal cortex. I am taking the advice of my mentor Blake Rudis: “Combat this with: DELIBERATE and ROUTINE PRACTICE. REPETITION, PERSISTENCE, and CONCENTRATION.”

My guitar knows me well enough that such routine practice sessions with it are more like performances. The camera hasn’t known me long enough to perform like my guitar. If only my guitar could communicate on some metaphysical level with my camera and let it know that I’m a little slower at learning things these days.

Perhaps both instruments working together could cure my condition with a miraculous song, frozen in time and captured in a photograph.