An average Joe builds a guitar from scratch.

How did this happen anyway?

11 years ago I took a job telling how much money they were going to make.  This job was not for me.  I thought I was an artist, not a finance guy.  But I was young, and needed the money, and “financial analyst” sounded fancy.

It didn’t take long for me to know I had to do something else.  So I walked into the director of our department’s office and said, “Lisa, I’m going to go make guitars for a living.”  She was, as you’d expect, pretty surprised.  She also didn’t believe me.

Fast forward 11 years.  I never made that guitar.  Instead I went to Carnegie Hall and marketed a super cool orchestra.  And then I did something else, which led to something else, which led to something else.  

But still, I didn’t ever make that guitar.

Well now, for crying out loud, it’s time.  I’m going to be in Portland, Oregon for the next two weeks, studying under Charles Fox at the American School of Lutherie.  Holy crap.

Am I qualified?  Hardly.  I was supposed to read a big book on the subject before class, but didn’t find the time.  I last did wood working in 7th grade—and in summer school no less.  That’s right, I chose to go to summer school to learn a little wood working.  I’m hoping that dork potential serves me well over the next two weeks.  But I digress.

So here are my goals:

  1. Keep all my fingers
  2. Build a guitar

That shouldn’t be too terribly tough, right?  We’ll see, I guess.

It all starts with a pile of wood…