Guitars Guitars Guitars 

Holy toledo, a lot has happened in the last 3 weeks. An amazing rhubarb tour, Television pushing us into the public eye, affirmations from famous people who like our stuff… and for me, guitars, guitars, guitars. It started at Kate Wolf festival, spun away by Bruce Cockburn and his beautiful solo set. Made me want to practice and practice, discover these joys I was hearing with my own fingers. Then we went on tour with A Prairie Home Companion, and Pat Donahue was so encouraging and generous, I got a bag of tricks to practice from him and inspiration to boot. He is so revered in guitar circles, such a calm yet passionate artist, and I am one lucky little aspirant. Then we got to Winnipeg Folk Festival, and Bruce Cockburn was back, beautiful again and giving us such a boost of joy with his presence, his direct appreciation of our music. Blew our minds. Watching him a second time sealed it. Guitar, I love it. It is an endless fountain of discovery. I sat watching his final set, so moved, as the huge moon rose over the stage. Art Turner sat beside me. He is our photographer, and the most knowledgeable finger-style guitar player I can call friend. His enjoyment and ideas brought home the depth of what we witnessed. And finally I also got to see our studio guitar dude extraordinaire, Kevin Breit, live. He played all over our album, but as it goes when life is busy, I’d never even met him. A strange sensation indeed, considering the intimacy of a song. As I headed home from the festival, I ran into him talking to Jack our manager, just past the security gates of the airport. Seeing him jam out madly on a workshop stage, and meeting him in person supported for me the profound nature of his involvement in our recording, and the potential evolution of our own playing as a result of it. He is raw guitar power, and as we seek to refine our live presentation, just the three of us, I have this incredible resource to dive into, his free form flight on the fretboard. So I’m home for three short days, guitar in hand, discovering. Firecrackers are going off inside me. We head back to California on friday, and then on to merry old England.

~ Ruth