A few guitars back, when I was baking in a warm kitchen on a cold, cold day, making the guitar that was devoured in spite of it’s basically barren nature; I was working with that borrowed mold. I could not pass up the opportunity to use the self same thing to make something more permanent, gluten free and low calorie, so I filled the pan with plaster of paris. Since then I have stared at it, painted it, sanded it, and come to loathe it with a special kind of arrogance that is based entirely on it’s commercial uniformity and lack of magic. So I will go back out this morning and try to make something of it, as I have for so many days – a kind of penance that has brought about so many guitars as my mind wanders away from trying to turn this into something, and toward almost anything else. I guess it has been a good thing from that standpoint, but that could just be me putting it out there that I could use a miracle for this thing….