My old man

My old man was the one who introduced me to the magic of the guitar. He didn’t just play notes—he played with soul, turning simple melodies into something meaningful. He always told me that music isn’t about playing the fastest or the most complex; it’s about playing with feeling. A single, heartfelt note, he’d say, can speak louder than a hundred played in a rush. He taught me to listen, to find my own voice, and to let the music flow naturally. Every lesson came with a story, every chord with a smile. His hands were steady, his tone warm, and his love for music was infectious. Even now, his wisdom guides me every time I pick up my guitar.