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Friday, January 29, 2010

In 1998, DH went out with Ron and picked out a gorgeous cherry wood guitar for me for my birthday. I took lessons a few months later, with Rebecca, a decidedly country-leaning player, and she taught us about the basic chords, pivot fingers, and a bunch of strum patterns. She armed us with a pile of music written with chords we were taught in the class. Rather than practice the same song over and over, there were a ton of songs we could play. I can't believe how many songs have only three chords! At the time, I practiced 15 minutes a day, ever day.

I like singing along with my favourite, folksy songs, and I really love finger-picking to Joni Mitchell, Paul Simon, and to classic folk songs. I'm definitely a campfire-style guitar player.

In 2002, I took the intermediate guitar class with a different teacher. It was fun playing guitar with my pregnant belly but I didn't practice as much and I never really mastered the chords we were taught (F major chord!).

Over the years, I've played from time to time, and this week, I decided to pick up my guitar again. It was out because DH was cleaning up the living room. The first day I played, my finger pads were screaming after 10 minutes and I had to stop. The second day, I played for 20 minutes with little pain, and by the third, I felt 30 minutes wasn't a problem. My fingers haven't calloused and peeled yet, so I guess I'm not playing enough!

DH has promised to teach me barre chords. He gave me a short lesson last weekend, and hopefully he'll help me out again this weekend. He'll turn me into a rocker chick come hell or high water.


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