Of Arrivals and Guitars

Every time I think I have managed to convince myself that I absolutely do not need to be traveling with a guitar…

I find myself in an airport, waiting for the sun to rise and my hotel to open so that I have somewhere to stay.

A man named Phillip was also waiting for the sun to rise.

He pointed to my guitar case and said “You play?”

So while we waited for sunrise, I learned about blues. I learned about Rock ‘n Roll, and fingerpicking. He played my guitar and I played my ukulele.

We sang House of the Rising Sun, because we both knew the lyrics to that one. (Mostly.)

Because music is it’s own language.

Because even at 4:00 in the morning, at the arrivals gate of Denpasar Airport in Bali, with two hours until sunrise, there is still space to create joy.


Share Your Story:

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s