With Thanksgiving fast approaching I thought it would be fun to write about the people and things I am thankful for.
Carlos brought the painting to me all the way from Spain.
It is a painting of the room where Carlos practiced his banjo. In the painting you can see his banjo, chair and computer. On the computer screen is . . . me.
A lot of people don’t know this, but I am very camera-shy. I hate working in front of a camera. I don’t even like having my picture taken. Carlos’ painting gave me some perspective from the other side of the camera. Now when I film a workshop I just talk to Carlos through the camera.
According to Google, Carlos and I live about 3,752 miles apart. We also speak different languages.
In spite of all that he is my best friend.
When Carlos comes to Crisfield we make music together and sometimes wander to Jenkins Creek or Brick Kiln. We’ll watch the Chesapeake Bay and the waterfowl enjoying comfortable silences.
When I was having surgery to install my first BAHA implant Carlos surprised me with a set of linoleum block prints he made.
My hearing loss made learning guitar difficult. In order to hear the instrument I rested my teeth on the upper bout of my guitar. Carlos caught this is blank and white.
Carlos sent the entire run of prints telling me to sell them and use the money to help cover any unexpected cost from the surgery.
We don’t see each other as often as wed like, but Carlos manages to capture me with his art better than a camera.
I am my parents only child. I always wanted a brother. Now Carlos is that brother .
Dear Old Dad calls Carlos his Spanish son.
Carlos is my friend. My brother.My office filled with Carlos’ artwork and I know he has a few souvenirs from Crisfield.. We have been on adventures together. Carlos has stood by me when I was at my lowest point.
Someday, the two of us are going to raise some hell with our Dobros in the guitar salons of Madrid.
Happy Thanksgiving, Carlos my brother. Thank you for being my friend.