Day 28
Gassire’s Lute:
The lute did not sing. "Look here, the lute does not sing." The smith said: "That's what I told you in the first place." Gassire said: "Well, make it sing." The smith said: "I cannot do anything more about it. The rest is your affair." Gassire said: "What can I do, then?" The smith said: "This is a piece of wood. It cannot sing if it has no heart. You must give it a heart. Carry this with the stroke of your sword. The wood must absorb down-dripping blood, blood of your blood, breath of your breath. Your pain must be its pain, your fame its fame. The wood may no longer be like the wood of a tree, but must be penetrated by and be a part of your people. Therefore it must live not only with you but with your sons. Then will the tone that comes from your heart echo in the ear of your son and live on in the people, and your son's life's blood, oozing out of his heart, will run down your body and live on in this piece of wood."
-Excerpt from a story dating back to 500 B.C., from the epic, Dausi from the Soninke, a small remnant group inhabiting the desert oases of Tichit and Walatu, West Africa.
A few points of interest in this passage, most notably is the reference to the lute, of which the guitar directly descends from, all the way back to 500 years B.C. I am certainly not comparing my efforts of guitar playing to the life of a warrior (although there is sometimes friction and a battle-like will of determination), what I find intriguing is the transformation from tree to instrument to music. For the instrument to make sound it needs life, this is obvious. The literal use of blood reveals violent times of the past but it contrasts nicely to needing the breath, the heart and the pain. I think about sacrifice often, what it took me to learn the guitar continues to feel sacrificial, an alienation and a self-imposed pursuit that looks and can feel at times like exile.
Looking back to the early years of learning, it seems so innocent and naive. To embark on the pursuit without a clear outcome of what the future of that entails can open up the possibility of mystery, discovery, disappointment and failure. Nowadays, It is the moment when I am grounded the most - with my right arm around the body and left hand caressing the neck, freeing up the fingers to grace, attack and manipulate the strings, a position so familiar that the mind can let go and explore freely and limitless. For many years and at times with brute force I had to struggle to get anywhere on the instrument. "You must give it a heart." I love this statement. It is poignant and speaks volumes. This can be said of any undertaking we pursue. We get out what we put in.
