ABSTRACT
He couldn’t wait to get his fingers on the strings of the guitar. His left hand glided up and down the frets with the perfect amount of pressure and vibrato. His right hand struck, plucked, tickled, and strummed the strings to sing colors and textures. Leo’s ear conducted while his fingers danced over the instrument like a kid on a jungle gym. There were no scales. There were no chords. No patterns or shapes. Just play and sound. Every note worked. Every motif created a new adventure. Leo played his guitar.
