Well, today there has been nothing doing, so I figured I would share with you a story I created when I was a few years younger than I am now.
How the Guitar Came To Be
Once upon a time, there was a woodcarver. This woodcarver was the greatest in all his land, and he had carved many things for many of the people.
He had created houses, and tables, chairs and beds, spoons and toys, and all other manner of things you can think of for the people of his land. He was always very proud of his work, and he knew his skills were envied far and wide, yet unfortunately, the man was restless. He had been searching for his whole life, high and low, forthe true meaning of truth, and beauty, and love, and he had yet to find it within his life’s work.
One day, as he was gathering his fine woods and materials in the forests by his home, he stumbled upon the Faery Queen, whom he had heard many great things about.
“Oh, Miss Faery Queen, may I please have a moment of your time?” He begged her, getting his nose right down next to the flower she was travelling upon. She looked up, startled for a moment, that an adult human was speaking to her! But then, she knew this must be a very special man, to be able to seek the help of the Queen of all the Faeries.
“Yes, my wonderful child, what is it that you must speak with me about?” she asked, gently.
“Oh, Miss!” He cried, mournfully. “I have been faithful to my life’s work for a very long time, and I know that through your work, you should try to find fulfillment, but Miss, I regret to admit that I have yet to truly experience true beauty, truth, or love, and I must say, I would very much like to find out about those things before my bones become too weary to travel your lands.” He bowed his head and tears started to form in the corners of his eyes.
The Queen gazed with love upon the old man and smiled tenderly.
“Good Sir, here’s what I will tell you. There is an old cat in these forests, and he was once a mighty cat, king of all others. Find him, and tell him I sent you on a journey and that you shall be needing his help. He will help you, and tell you what you need to do next.”
The old man felt his heart swell with joy and he graciously thanked the Faery Queen as she continued on her way.
He continued deeper on into the forest, not quite sure which direction to go, but trusting that he was on the proper path, and soon, he came upon a great, golden cat, with long strands of silvery hair, blazing outward like the sun greeting the morning horizon.
The cat looked as though he was sleeping, and his breath was heavy and slow.
The man got up close to the cat’s ear and whispered softly.
“Good King of the forests, the Faery Queen has sent me on a journey, and she thought you might help. I do not wish to disturb you, so please, take your time with me.”
The great cat lifted a mighty head and gave a long look deep into the man’s eyes.
“I have what you are searching for.” The King said, slowly.
“You must go back to your village, and for three days, you must carve a large rosewood tree into the finest carving your abilities can produce. After you are finished, take this gift I will give you, and stretch it along the wood tightly, secure it, and dry it in your kiln. Once you do this, you will know the true meaning of beauty, truth, and love.”
And with that, the great cat’s jaws opened wide, and the man removed the Forest-King’s gut, packing it securely in his satchel.
The man returned home, and did as the Queen and King had instructed.
After four days, he opened his kiln to see what had been produced. As he opened the fire-oven, the wind rustled into the open space, and soon a vibrating tone like none other the man had heard before came whispering past his ears.
Immediately entranced, the old man picked up the delicate wooden carving with its vibrating chords, and rested it in his lap gently. His deeply-weathered hands moved with a life of their own and plucked the strings slowly at first, but deeply, and eventually he was playing loud and wide, the haunting tones echoing throughout the hills and valleys of the great lands he lived within.
After a few days, a crowd had gathered, all who listened were held in pause at the beauty seemingly coaxed out of their very own souls.
Finally, after a week of playing, the man broke down and heaved great wails and sighs that could be heard for miles. “What is it!” The people cried, “That pains you so much? How could it be;” They enquired, curiously, “That you have played something so beautiful, yet you are haunted by its very sounds?”
The old man smiled through his tears and reassured them all. “I don’t cry out of sadness, or despair, but rather a great veil has been lifted, and now!, Ah, Now I see…that these notes are in fact my own soul’s song…and I have known true beauty, truth, and love all along…I simply had never stopped to listen to its tune.” He looked down at the instrument in his hands.
“This will forever be a tool to reconnect people to their own heart. When people place their fingers upon these chords, may they always feel the truth radiate from their souls.”