My guitar

Well some time back I purchased a guitar.  It spoke to me. It is a thin line Fender.  It is black.  It has a built in tuner.  It is lovely.  For 2 weeks I looked at it in the store and finally decided to purchase it.  After 2+ years in a music store there has been nothing that called to me to take home.  Nothing I really wanted to learn.  Until this little black guitar.

So i brought it home.  It sits in a place Espen can't get to it.  And I have learned 3 chords.  I practice my 3 chords.  And honestly I hate it.  I have a reason.  It is making my fingers sore.  Yes I realize that happens.  HOWEVER.....

My love, my passion, my desire all lie in the pottery studio.  And with my fingers hurting it makes throwing a pot on the wheel or feeling the thickness of a pinch pot rather challenging.  And I trust my hands so much in the studio.  I can close my eyes when I throw a pot on the wheel and I KNOW just how think or thin the clay is because I trust my fingers.  And my left 3 fingers hurt.  They don't  want to be telling me the truth.

So while I wanted to learn some things on this beautiful guitar I know I am not.  It will sit and collect layers of dust. Because I am not the one to love it.  I want to learn something but I need it to be easier on my fingers.  A ukulele perhaps.   Or just stick to the pottery.  So I will probable take my beautiful guitar back to the store and let someone else love it.  As sad as that is..... I just can't do both when my pottery requires me to trust what my fingers feel.