Since the age of 16 I have held guitars in my hands

Since the age of 16 I have held guitars in my hands. Of all the external and corporeal elements of my life that exist as a continuous chosen thread guitars are primary if not singular. I accept them as a center of creativity and contemplation. I accept them as a primary meditative device. The very act of holding a guitar seems to be a return to a state of normalcy. Times without one in my hands being emptier. I love them as I love no other non sentient thing. I'm crazy about the things. I love to touch them and smell them. I love frets and tuning mechanisms and bridges and strings. I think that most of the important events in my life have either included or been punctuated with guitars. I have a goodly number but I do not have enough. I love the ones I have and I search for more. They are a source of joy. They are a source of frustration when I can't get rid of a buzz or an overtone or some other problem. They are organic and reactive. Too dry or too damp or too cold or too hot are cautionary measurements that need to be monitored. But, I say with joy in my gut, I love them. I do. I do. I do.