Friday, September 12, 2008

Milk Thistle, Milk Thistle

After two guitar lessons I can awkwardly fumble my way through several songs including "I Walk the Line" by Johnny Cash. I feel ridiculously proud of my limited musical skill and painful fingertips. The instructor has promised that by the third week we should have callouses. I'm very, very hopeful.

This is basically the guitar I ended up renting from the school:

but mine is more banged up (that's what she said...?)

I don't know. I feel like this is the best thing I've done recently. I've been meaning to sign up and learn something for awhile but this is the first time I was actually organized to register before classes started (I even got an early registration discount). I had a short internal debate, banjo? guitar? banjo? HARMONICA! guitar?, but guitar won in the end. Maybe if I ever conquer this I can try another instrument.

My teacher is really awesome too. She's hilarious and makes us sing. Most of the songs we've learned so far are folk/alt-country so it's generally in my limited range and enjoyable. I try not to deafen others but singing makes the experience even more fun. I know it sounds cheesy but for that hour or so I feel free. Incredibly awkward, self-conscious and self-critical but lighter too.

After class everyone reconvenes in the music hall and all the guitar classes play a few songs together. I haven't been able to participate much yet since I only know five chords but it's still neat. And I get to practice my right hand technique (a fancy way to say muting all the strings and strumming along).

I've also been enjoying watching movie previews online. Of all the movies coming out soon (and there's a lot of garbage) I want to see this most.

It's called Nights and Weekends. It reminds me a lot of Quiet City which I loved.

Apparently the kids are calling this "Mumblecore" cinema. Per le infamous Wikipedia, Mumblecore "is primarily characterized by ultra-low budget production (often employing digital video cameras), focus on personal relationships between twenty-somethings, improvised scripts, and non-professional actors." It sounds kind of pretentious but Quiet City at least was really beautiful.

This is the sort of experience that I will never, ever have even were I to be set down in an identical situation. Which is regrettable.

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