I love to watch your fingers as they pick the strings or move up and down the frets. It is mesmerizing, watching and listening from the weird angle of lying next to you so that my eyesight is level with the sound hole and I see the guitar head in perspective. When my neck gets tired of the weird position, I just have to close my eyes, rest my head on my arms and await your next song with much delighted anticipation.
I love to hear you sing – childhood songs evoked from nostalgia, random radio tunes, good old rocking ones from the school band days and silly spontaneously made-up lyrics to beautiful soothing melodies. I love it when you sing and play to careless abandon, allowing mood, thoughts and memories to form your playlist.
I love the `Aiiieeeee….’ look on your face when I sing off-key, the big-round-eyed look when you try to coax me to sing along at the next line or the try-very-hard-not-to-laugh look when the only words I know to Nirvana’s Rape Me is well, `rape me’.
I love these moments when you are lost with your Takamine and let the songs tell the stories…
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