So a fellow guitarist asks me: "Where did you get that pic on your desk?"
I assumed that he was referring to an image I may have stuck up on the wall amongst the deadline filled calenders, scribbly sticky notes and critical-call numbers. He wasn't.
I assumed that he was referring to an image I may have stuck up on the wall amongst the deadline filled calenders, scribbly sticky notes and critical-call numbers. He wasn't.
Lo and Behold! A pic? Oh I seeeeeeeee...
It was a stone I had picked up in the courtyard whilst smoking one day.
Shaped like a droplet and flat as flapjacks, it would actually make a great pick. A guitar pick- for picking strings! I couldn't help but recognise the ingenious allusion, picturing Fred Flintstone firing up a crowd on stage. A pick from the stone-age.
But what music would our prehistoric partners have made?
It was a stone I had picked up in the courtyard whilst smoking one day.
Shaped like a droplet and flat as flapjacks, it would actually make a great pick. A guitar pick- for picking strings! I couldn't help but recognise the ingenious allusion, picturing Fred Flintstone firing up a crowd on stage. A pick from the stone-age.
But what music would our prehistoric partners have made?
Rock.
.Ofcourse.
Haha. the above image is an Elvis stamp from Kyrgyzstan...or Tajikistan, Elvisblog.net did not specify, but if you like Elvis (and you should) have a look for yourself.
Until next time
My kindest regards
.Ofcourse.
Haha. the above image is an Elvis stamp from Kyrgyzstan...or Tajikistan, Elvisblog.net did not specify, but if you like Elvis (and you should) have a look for yourself.
Until next time
My kindest regards