Posted by: normanlgreen | October 28, 2011

Dream, October 28, 2011 guitar workshop

Dream, Home 6:10 am

Drue has a two story house in the Quapaw Quarter of Little Rock. There is to be a guitar workshop at her house. Many people have been invited as a teacher of some reputation has something for students of all skill levels. I am hesitant to attend, so when I leave my house, some ten blocks away, decide not to bring my guitar. I suppose that there will be some less expensive instruments provided – I don’t want to risk losing my old Gibson.

I walk the streets to her house, set on a corner lot and nicely kept up. It is mid day and clear with a good deal of light comes through the many windows. I help to move furniture around in the upstairs parlor as Drue speaks excitedly about learning the guitar. She tells me that this will help her to de-code the notes in poetry. I am confused and ask her to clarify. In the end I decide she wants to use music to be able to express rhythmic patterns in the spoken word.

As more guests arrive, I see that no one has brought a guitar to the workshop, and resolve to go home to get mine. There is little time, and though she has other duties, our host offers to drive me home to get my instrument.

At my house we gather up papers (sheet music?) and drive back to her house, without having gotten the Gibson. Now I feel like a schmo and resolve to walk home. Outside the house, there is a group of people digging through the turf on the corner of Drue’s lot. The bald father of a toddler girl labors while a woman with spiky blond hair directs.


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