You see this? This is my guitar. I call her Belle. I don't know why, but the name just stuck to me. I love this guitar. Me and her go waaay back. It was back in 5th grade when I was constantly pushed to play an instrument by my mom and dad and I tried just about the basic stuff with my uncle. The recorder, bleh. Drums was a big NO. The bass was too heavy for me at the time. And finally, Wahlah, the guitar. It took me a legit 3 months to even be comfortable with placing my puny little fingers around the neck of his old crusty blue guitar. I never knew why learning any instrument was important, until I hit 11.My birthday was a week away and my mom called. She has asked me what my favorite color was and I looked at her funny. I asked why but she didn't answer. "Black it is" she said. and that was that. A week later. BAM! A shiny black Esteban guitar right through Fed Ex. All my mom did slap a bowtie on it and called it my birthday present. She was a lazy mom, but she always pulled some crazy stuff out of her butt. I cant really recall what else I got that day, but I did get something. And that something was passion!
Its been about 7 years now and I still feel like I have that drive to do better. Belle knew that, and she also knew that I couldn't progress any farther with her either. That's why I switched to play the electric guitar. But every once in a while, I'd always visit her. It's Funny because when I think about it, I think I chose the name Belle for like wedding bells. My love for music is definitely there and as long as I'm happy playing, I wouldn't mind be married to it.
