I remember my first guitar
I remember the feeling of sliding my fingers up and down the fretboard which was homez to six shiny steel strings.
I remember the sharpness of those strings, the scratches on my fingers from practicing for hours
I remember finally developing the calluses on my fingertips, and the feeling I got whenever I played a chord right.
I remember waking up first thing and reaching for it, forgetting about everything else.
I remember the mini performances I gave my family, and with their thunderous applause
I remember falling in love with the idea of becoming a musician one day, and feeling the blazing lights warmth on my almost-solid finger tips
I remember letting it go and losing interest only to fall in love with the piano and begin the adventure again.
