guitar of the week

Rånda's getting dressed up

I’m already feeling separation anxiety lol. I’m sending Rånda off to have her pups replaced and it’s about a 2 week wait time. I’ve been playing Mary for about maybe 5 months or so now and somehow I feel more attached to Rånda? lol I know it’s crazy, I’m excited to have her all gussied up but I’m sad to let her go for 2 weeks lol.

Guitar problems y'all.


Chats don’t always land on their feet.

Guitar Villain / Guitar Vilain


Like a true friend, Ladybug is torn between mild concern and laughter.

Edit: Tagline changed from “cats” to “Chats” per awesome suggestion of @dreamsofria

Northern Downpour (Cover)
Panic! at the Disco
Northern Downpour (Cover)

this is my attempt at covering one of Panic’s most beloved and, i believe, most emotional song. I’ll never be able to make this perfect either because, well, I don’t have bren’s voice. but ya know. i did my best. hope you enjoy!!

past covers || request a song!!

(you can always send me an ask/message if there are any of my covers you want to download!!) 

Cheer Up Post #5229

For the anon requesting bassists Mikey Way, Rena Lovelis, Mike Dirnt, Pete Wentz, and Dallon Weekes, enjoy!

***Disclaimer: Most of the images used do not belong to me. If you see one that’s yours, and you would like credit or to have it removed/replaced, please just ask.

Want your own Cheer Up Post? Find out how. Or see the others.

Walking in the Wind is a bonus song on Made in the A.M. It doesn’t fit easily into the One Direction canon; it’s not swaggering or fit for a stadium. There are no rivals, no romantic interests, no ships. This is One Direction doing Paul Simon. This is One Direction sitting back, taking a breath, settling into a story.

From the opening, stepping guitar, Walking in the Wind is unhurried. A week ago you said to me, do you believe I’ll never be too far. The song is an exchange between one who’s lost someone, and the one who’s been lost. The fact that we can sit right here and say goodbye, means we’ve already won. The latter remembers their time together, and the former insists: it isn’t over, you’ll find me, there’s still more to come. We had some good times, didn’t we? We had some good tricks up our sleeve. The one who lost sings. And the other responds: But it’s not the end. I’ll see your face again.

Walking in the Wind isn’t a sharp song. It’s imprecise. But it points at a singer trying to interrogate the loss, trying to understand the promise and the inevitable breaking of that promise. The song examines, rather than argue. It doesn’t defend against the present or future absence. There is no armor, no mechanism. Simply truth. The song looks back on what once existed, and recognizes it as a faded medium: a Polaroid.

But that’s okay! The song insists. It’s catchy and chill. The melody picks up and sweeps forward. They sing, insistently: You will find me, in places that we’ve never been. For all that the song is about, the music is upbeat and optimistic. It’s okay, it will be okay. We’re sure of it.

Harry Styles, a co-writer on Walking in the Wind, said of another song he wrote, Olivia, that “it doesn’t have to be so literal.” Olivia doesn’t have to be a person, he insisted. It could be a place. “Sometimes I think it’s cool to take an emotion and personify it.”

I think the same thought applies to Walking in the Wind.

The song is about loss, yes, but not necessarily one loss, one absence. As adults, we become inured to small deaths. The numbers we lose, the friendships that fall away, the moments we forget. All small, nearly imperceptible endings in our daily lives. So many, that soon we stop counting. We’re taught that every door closing will open another, and we whisper this to ourselves, enough so that we forget to notice if another door does open, or if the first door simply stays closed.

We come to understand these endings by containing them within a story. We accept a break up because a best friend says, “Sometimes, relationships take so many parts of you, that by the end, you’re left with nothing,” and you decide to think about the break up as you would a survival story, rather than the more pedestrian “we stopped liking each other.” A move becomes a step forward, rather than a step away; a fight becomes a miscommunication.

Walking in the Wind is trying to decide which story to tell. The one of the absence, or the one of the future reconciliation. This song is about loss. But it’s also about the stories we tell about those losses, and the ways we claim them.

Yesterday I went out to celebrate the birthday of a friend. But as we raised our glasses up to make a toast, I realized you were missing.

Stories rename themselves as we go. Their edges shift. Their definitions change. The way we experience them in the moment is different from the way we experience them in retrospect, and this is what Walking in the Wind hinges on. It’s optimistic, still, in that moment of reckoning. The song insists: you will find me. What has happened, has happened. But more is to come.

This isn’t a song about mourning. It’s about the story that comes from the mess. It’s not an ending, or even a punctuation mark. It’s a semi-colon. Unresolved.  

We may not know if it’s okay. We may not know for awhile.

We had some good times, didn’t we? We wore our hearts out on our sleeve.

We don’t have to understand.

Goodbyes are bittersweet. But it’s not the end.

Not yet.

I’ll see your face again.

-Kelsey Ford is a writer living in Los Angeles.

A Letter from You

AN: @whitechocolateperfection Thanks Emily for requesting and advising as always :) and @teen-mendes you know why 

Originally posted by anthony-samaniego

It’s laying under the flower pot at your front doorstep. There’s a small rock set on the opposite corner, like the pot isn’t heavy enough to keep it down.

Leaning over, you take it from its hiding space, realizing it’s a letter. Your name is written across the white in black ink. The handwriting is familiar. Something you’ve seen in journals and lyrics written quickly on newspaper or paper towels when his phone was too far away. You found parchment in your purse from the small train you took in Amsterdam. The song turned into roses. Who knew one lyrical line would’ve turned into your favorite song.

When the door is unlocked and your bag and keys are on the hook, you take a seat by the window. Your cat is curled up at your feet, stirring in her sleep.

The envelope is sealed, but you don’t go to open it as quickly as you should. The lip feels heavy, straining your shoulders. The breakup is still fresh, too fresh to read his letter. Maybe he wants to get back together.. maybe he’s about to show up with a bouquet of tulips and a single white rose- the only way you’ll accept flowers. Maybe it’s actually from Aaliyah, or an old friend from college. It was your birthday just last month. It could be a forgotten gift and the writer was too embarrassed to give it to you, face to face.

“What am I waiting for?” You ask yourself, knowing the longer you wait the worse the pain in your chest will feel. The words he spoke will never leave. They’re tattooed in your mind..anyone else would’ve found it beautiful, poetic. For you? It was tragic.


Keep reading

✨✨Today’s practice! That magical moment when Chanyeol starts playing the guitar✨✨ I can’t believe that I saw them a week ago!!! 😭😭 but I forgot to tell you, oppa notice at @ellirokz and me!! Chanyeol wave at us in the concert! 100% real, no fake! Hahaha, you can imagine how excited we were!!! 😆💖💖💖

Haha no for real tho where is the 100k shance zombie apocalypse au fic where Shiro and Lance low key knew each other before and Lance was hella looking up to + crushing on him, then when they meet again Shiro has a tight group of tough survivors, he’s missing a hand and that spark his eyes used to have.

They’ve all seen some shit, but Shiro… he can’t even recognize him anymore. It’s the same voice, vaguely the same face, but the man? Gone.

All of Lance’s attempts at bringing back the lively, smiling Shiro he used to know and adore fail. There’s only the stone faced leader the plague has made him. And sure, he can still be compassionate, but there’s no warmth behind it. Only duty.

Lance almost gives up when it happens. One night, after a successful raid, they all drink as a celebration. Lance laughs, sings, plays the guitar they found a few weeks back. He glances at Shiro almost as much as Shiro glances at him, only because they’re both stupid clueless dumbasses who don’t believe they deserve the other, neither of them notices.

Only Lance does see something. A smile. The first genuine one he’s seen since they found him. It’s small, almost hidden by the dark, but Lance catches it. And it takes his breath away. His fingers fumble on the strings and he actually stops playing because he gets so flustered. Everyone laugh, and by the time he catches Shiro’s face again, the smile is gone. But now he has hope.

From then on, it’s just a waiting game. Lance will bring him flowers, use ridiculous pick up lines to make him laugh, sing and play the guitar whenever he just can… and it works. Shiro is recognizable again. A changed man, but not a completely different one. He smiles more, even cracks a joke every now and then. Slowly, warmth seeps back into him. His lips are definitely warm when he kisses Lance by the fire one late night, after everyone already went to sleep.

So….. where is it? What do you mean it doesn’t exist???? I need it :’(


Requested by @janaespecter14

The final note hung in the air as Archie set down his guitar and anxiously waited for you to say something.  He had spent weeks writing the song.  Spending countless hours practicing it until he got it just right.  You deserved something perfect.

With tears welling in your eyes you reached out and grabbed the back of his neck, pulling his mouth against your own in a fierce kiss.  “That was beautiful, Archie.”