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Post by bluemonk87 on Aug 1, 2009 10:05:37 GMT -6
After another day of classes Otis finds himself in the East Hallway. Walking without any real kind of direction. Just... bored and wanting to get lost for a minute. This hadn't been his favorite day out of the year so far. He hadn't had any time to himself and really was missing home extra bad. He wanted to just walk and play on the boardwalk back in San Fran or go down to Amoeba and dig their record crates for a few hours. He needed to immerse himself in music for just a little bit. And to make matters worse the staircases weren't taking him where he wanted to go. He ended up in a hallway he's never seen or heard of... but at least he could kill some time or find something interesting. And that he did. Just a few doors into the hallway he found a dusty old empty classroom. The door was unlocked and slightly ajar... inviting people in, he thought. He pushes open the door and immediatley his nostrils are filled with the smell of old books mixed with... alchohol and... sniff sniff... hmm... that smells like weed.
"Clearly I need to make some new freinds."
Otis closes the door. He takes his bag and his guitar off his back and sets them down on an empty desk. Otis looks out the window... it's a little dusty but he can sort of make out what's out there. He uses his finger to draw his graffitti tag in the window then brushes it off on his pant leg. Otis posts himself up ontop one of the desks then grabs his guitar and starts tuning the strings. He loved the smell of the cedar body. It made him think about being a kid and exploring the woods on his family trips, pretending he was traveling through the middle of a war. He finally finished tuning up and took this private moment to practice some scales and arpegios. He goes up and down the neck in the G Dorian Mode, picking the strings with his fingers, adjusting to a faster pace with each repetition. At one with his instrument. Finally there was peace.
"Clearly I need to make some new freinds."
Otis closes the door. He takes his bag and his guitar off his back and sets them down on an empty desk. Otis looks out the window... it's a little dusty but he can sort of make out what's out there. He uses his finger to draw his graffitti tag in the window then brushes it off on his pant leg. Otis posts himself up ontop one of the desks then grabs his guitar and starts tuning the strings. He loved the smell of the cedar body. It made him think about being a kid and exploring the woods on his family trips, pretending he was traveling through the middle of a war. He finally finished tuning up and took this private moment to practice some scales and arpegios. He goes up and down the neck in the G Dorian Mode, picking the strings with his fingers, adjusting to a faster pace with each repetition. At one with his instrument. Finally there was peace.
