I never really thought about that much. I just accepted to it to be a universal truth. Like breathing or having to drink water. It just is true and always has been for me.

My earliest memories are of sitting in my Grandfather’s lap, on his favorite chair, next to the hi-fi cabinet, listening to jazz and blues. Louis Armstrong, Ella Fitzgerald and Ray Charles are the soundtrack of my earliest childhood memories. He had a huge record collection, mostly all jazz and blues. Perhaps that’s part of why I love it. It’s comfort music and it feels like home. It has always made me feel something, whether it be happy or sad or simply, for lack of a better word, “soulful”. I feel it in my bones. I feel it deep, down in every molecule of my being. Blues speaks the language of the feelings I have living inside me.

While in college I had the opportunity to hear Ray Charles in concert. I naturally jumped at the chance and that of course sealed the deal. While Ray sang music from, what could be described as a variety of genres, everything he sang and played was so deep into the blues that I couldn’t help, but to be moved further down that road.

I recently learned how to play some guitar, it has always felt like something I wanted to express, but was unable to let out. Thank goodness for my guitar. I’m finally learning the language and the ability to set it free. When it happens, and I’m not thinking about it, pure magic can take place. It’s better than almost any feeling I’ve ever experienced.

The blues has always been there for me. It’s there whether I feel happy or sad. It always comforts me. The more I learn about and listen to it, the deeper my love grows and the more I appreciate the blues. The more time I spend woodshedding on my guitar, the more I love it, as well. I’m obsessed with my guitar. I eat, sleep, breathe and dream it. I spend every free moment I have practicing or thinking about it. I hope I don’t ever lose that feeling or grow tired of it. Something tells me…that will never happen.