guitar - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
The guitar was a Gibson Les Paul. It's heavy wood was satisfying in the hand and it's tones were rich and full. As far as Gerry was concerned it was the best brand of guitar in the world.
The guitar was an ordinary brown, wooden, acoustic guitar. But what Gerry did with it was far from ordinary. He was a genius, everyone said so.
Joey didn't just play his electric guitar, he rocked it. And he didn't just rock the guitar, he rocked the whole house. Everything vibrated when he turned up that amp and the whole cul-de-sac got treated to his Queen solo renditions whether they liked it or not.
Every time I had the opportunity I would make my guitar sing to me, it was my slave and I was it's master.
The sweet refrain of the acoustic guitar spoke a musical language to my soul. The strumming sound had a hypnotic soothing quality that I craved. To loose myself to the melody of the guitar was my idea of a heavenly afternoon.
The glowing of the moonlight caved in his hippie van. James sat with his legs spread out on the barbecue stained seats of his van, strumming the guitar the moon shone on. He would twist his fingers in all sorts of odd shapes to form chords around the maple wood fretboard and once or twice, would slide his hand up across the higher frets.
The night clubs and the flashing lights of zooming cars of the city would rumble the van but he didn't care, this was how he spent his teenage years. He did this whenever he felt that Nan was yelling too loud or Ma kept nagging him about his career choices.
James never regretted it once.