Of the few things I own and have owned in my life, there a even fewer that have brought me such great satisfaction as the Ibanez electric-acoustic guitar with the cutoff body that hangs on the wall in my room. a simple black strap of polyester and fabric hangs off of the back of it. The tuning pegs are but a few months old. The strings are clean, wound of silk and steel. a small pick guard sits below the opening, black and glossy. The front is a natural wood finish while the rest of the body is a dark, stained finish. When I look at it, a flood of memories rushes through my mind. I can remember the first time I laid eyes upon it.

                I was a freshman in high school when I received it as  a Christmas gift. I had been practicing guitar for little over 2 years on a Fender Stratocaster knock-off and a 10 watt Peavy amp. When I first opened the box. It was perfection. None of the dings or scratches it now wears so proudly, the battle scars of live performance and travel, but sleek and polished, already strung with copper wound .11 - .49 gauge strings. A deep rustic sound rung out as I took my first strum. The harmonic overtones continued to ring out long after I had struck that open G major chord. I could smell the wood inside of the body that had been left untouched after it had been shaped.

                I spent the next 8 years with this guitar. I wrote my first song on it. It was written after listening to the White Album on repeat for a month. To this day, I have still not written lyrics for that song; the music just seems to speak for itself. I played my first show with it. It was Relay for Life 2008 at my high school. I had gotten together with a drummer and a bassist and another guitarist. We covered Here Comes the Sun by The Beatles. I did the vocals and the rhythm guitar, while the lead mimicked the sounds of the keyboard played in the original recording. I had never felt so alive. It was that day I decided I wanted to be a professional musician one day.

                As time went on, I would write more and more. Everything that I've ever written on guitar would be written using my Ibanez. The summer after high school I got together with two friends who played the bass and drums. We would form a band called The Public Trust and play all original music. Every show, every practice, my Ibanez would accompany me, played through the same P.A. system that I would sing through. That P.A. Would end up exploding on our 20th show of the year and leaving me with just my axe and microphone, but no way to amplify. The band would slowly dissipate after that. Kyle the drummer would get caught up in a relationship with a woman twice his age. Mark would find God after years of being an ardent "Anti-theist". I would continue on to pursue and education, but my Ibanez would stay with me through all of it.

                My first years in college would not be without stress. I had the bright idea to move in with my girlfriend at 19 years old. I swear to this day that Ibanez got me through some of those stressful times. I would sometimes lay awake at night, alone with my thoughts and emotions as she slept. I would sit out in the living room of our tiny apartment  let the strings speak everything I felt, for I could not. I still do that from time to time, though now I have a room of own. I still take very good care of my guitar, polishing the woods and changing the string on a regular basis, I replace the tuning pegs every 3 years or whenever rust or damage comes upon them.  This guitar has not only been with me through some of the most trying years of my life, but has also taught me the value of taking good care of the things that are worth holding onto. I may not always play this guitar as my first choice, But I will always have it with me.

-On my honor, I have not given, nor received, nor witnessed any unauthorized assistance on this work.